


Betrayal

by Ytteb



Series: Milsom Bay [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs thinks Tony is a pretty forgiving sort of person. What happens when he does something Tony finds hard to forgive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony DiNozzo had been home for three hours and was showering for the fourth time as he tried to rid his body of the  _stench_ of that place. Logically, he knew that he was clean and that the only smell on his body belonged to his expensive shower gel but, so far, each time he had emerged from the shower he had convinced himself that he could still sense something else lingering.

He looked at the clothes he had been wearing and longed just to toss them all away but  _logic_ , again that  _sensible_  word, demanded that he get them dry cleaned instead. He dried himself off and put his tatty jeans and comfortable sweater back on hoping that this time he had defeated the unwelcome odour.

As he opened his bathroom door he smelled something else: a smell that had until twenty four hours ago, been a source of comfort and security. Now it almost made him want to throw up. He straightened himself up and prepared for the ordeal ahead.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he said, "I didn't hear the bell ring."

"The shower was running," said Gibbs. Tony wasn't sure if that was meant as an excuse or a reason for the senior agent to pick the lock. He decided not to enquire. In fact, he decided not to say anything but just moved into the kitchen to get a drink.

"Vance said you're taking some time off," said Gibbs.

Tony huffed a laugh but it wasn't the sort of noise that his team would normally associate with a Tony laugh.

"Is that what the Director said?" asked Tony.

"Sure. He said you decided you needed to take some time out."

Tony shrugged his shoulders tiredly and filled the kettle.

"I'd offer you a coffee, Special Agent Gibbs, but that would imply I want you to stay. And I really, really don't want you to."

"I don't want a drink, DiNozzo."

"Well, that's good. A meeting of minds ... for once." Tony rummaged in the cupboard, thinking vaguely that perhaps some hot chocolate might be comforting. It also meant that he could keep his back to Gibbs.

"So, how long are you taking?" asked Gibbs.

"Didn't the Director tell you?"

"I wouldn't be asking you if he had, DiNozzo."

"I think the Director and I have different interpretations of me taking time off," said Tony, suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of hot chocolate and getting teabags out instead.

"What does that mean?" snapped Gibbs.

"It means that I wanted to quit but the Director suggested I should use up my leave and comp time instead. Well, actually, he didn't suggest, he insisted."

"And you said yes?"

"Shouldn't come as a surprise, Special Agent Gibbs. After all, someone like me would jump at the chance to do nothing at the taxpayers' expense. Hell, it's a miracle I come to work at all."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed for a moment but he didn't take the bait,

"So, how long are you going to be gone for?"

"Why d'you want to know?"

"I need to know how long I'm going to be a man short."

"I'm sure the Director will assign you another 'man'," said Tony, poking his teabag in the mug with the utmost concentration.

"I don't want another man," said Gibbs, "I want you." An odd look passed over Gibbs' face as he made this confession. Tony gazed at him, trying to work out if that fleeting expression spoke of contrition, embarrassment or triumph. Contrition because he regretted what had happened; embarrassment that he'd had to confess he needed Tony; or triumph because he thought he had played a winning card by appealing to Tony's need for affirmation. Tony couldn't decide and, at that moment, didn't really care. There was a time when such a declaration by Gibbs would have brought Tony to attention immediately, ready to lay aside any grievance because the all-powerful Gibbs had admitted to needing him.

Tony shrugged his shoulders again and, deciding that the tea had steeped enough, carefully removed the teabag. He went to the refrigerator to get the milk out; at the moment, making his tea perfectly was the most important thing in the world. He put the milk in the mug, added sugar, stirred the drink and put the milk back. He walked past Gibbs back to his living room, sat down on his couch and flicked the TV on.

Gibbs followed him and switched the set off. Tony took a sip of his tea and cursed inwardly when his hand shook slightly causing him to spill some.

"What's going on, Tony?" asked Gibbs, "Talk to me."

Tony laughed that odd laugh again but said nothing.

"Look, I know you're mad about what happened ..." said Gibbs, "but you don't have to quit over it."

"Who'd have thought it? You and the Director agreeing about something," said Tony sarcastically.

"The Director knows you're a good agent," said Gibbs.

"And you, what do you think, Special Agent Gibbs?" asked Tony.

"Tony, you know that I think you're a good agent. I've told you before that I depend on you. I don't say that about many people."

"That's good to know, Special Agent Gibbs, but the question is, can I depend on  _you_?"

"What sort of stupid question is that?" bristled Gibbs, "you know I've always got your six."

"Then how do you explain what happened yesterday?" demanded Tony with the first hint of emotion he had displayed since Gibbs' arrival. "Explain it to me; go on."

Gibbs opened his mouth to explain but was momentarily halted by the most hostile stare Tony had ever directed at him. He wondered how he could explain.

NCISNCIS

_Previous day._

Gibbs was in an irritable mood. His team had been working on cold cases all week because DiNozzo and McGee were caught up in court. It wasn't that Gibbs was opposed to court appearances but presiding Judge McIntosh Carew was, in Gibbs' opinion, a garrulous old fusspot who was wasting his agents' precious time with procedural niceties and nit-picking. A case which should have been wrapped up in two days had dragged on for four.

So, when DiNozzo got called away again because the judge wanted clarification of a search warrant, Gibbs was close to exploding.

"Gotta go, Boss," said Tony reasonably, "don't want to get on Carew's bad side."

"You need to be firm with him, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, "tell him you've got other crooks to find and he's wasting your time."

Tony just grinned at the obvious absurdity of saying anything like that to a federal judge and waved his hand in farewell.

Three hours later, Gibbs got a phone call,

"Hey, Boss," came Tony's cheerful voice.

"You'd better be sounding happy because you're on your way back here," said Gibbs curtly.

"Aahh, not exactly," said Tony, "there's been a complication."

"What complication?"

"The Judge isn't sure we served the warrant properly."

"Tell him we did," ordered Gibbs.

"I tried," said Tony.

"Well, try harder."

"The Judge says he wants to hear from the senior agent present when the warrant was served," said Tony.

"That was me," said Gibbs.

"I know, he wants you to come down here."

"I'm not coming down there to tell him what he already knows," said Gibbs irritably.

"Gibbs, he means it. He wants to see you. Now."

"Tell him I'll come later," said Gibbs, "I've got other things to do."

"Boss," said Tony in a pleading voice, "I don't think he'll take that well."

"Work that famous DiNozzo charm," said Gibbs as he put the phone down. "I'll be in MTAC," he said to McGee.

An hour later, McGee got a call,

"Hey, McGee, is the Boss there?" came Tony's voice.

"He's in MTAC," said McGee.

"Look, the Judge is getting a bit antsy. I've left three messages on Gibbs's cell but he's not picking up. Go and tell him, will you?"

"Sure," said Tim, "but I'm not sure it'll do any good."

"Well, make it good," said Tony, "because I think the Judge is about to lose it."

McGee trotted up to MTAC and delivered the message but Gibbs didn't get up from his chair.

"Uh, Boss," said McGee anxiously, "I think Tony's getting worried about what the Judge is going to do."

"What can he do, McGee? He can't expect people to jump to it at a moment's notice."

"Well, Boss, I think he can," answered McGee honestly.

"Some people, McGee, some people," said Gibbs as he settled back comfortably.

Another hour passed. There were no more frantic messages from Tony so Tim began to hope that the problem had gone away. Then Tim's desk phone rang again.

"Tim, the Judge wants to speak to Gibbs so I've suggested putting a call through to MTAC," said Tony.

"I'll set it up," promised Tim.

A couple of minutes later, the large screen in MTAC showed Judge McIntosh Carew in his rooms alongside a harassed looking Tony and a court bailiff.

"Special Agent Gibbs," said the Judge.

"Judge," said Gibbs, remaining seated.

"I believe I requested your attendance in my court," continued the Judge.

"I had another appointment," said Gibbs blandly.

"More important than coming to a Federal court?"

Gibbs shrugged. McGee was shocked. It was uncharacteristic for Gibbs to be so borderline insolent with officials.

"So, when may I expect to see you, Special Agent Gibbs?" continued the Judge beginning to turn red.

"Soon, I hope," said Gibbs as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Special Agent Gibbs, I trust you understand the importance of the justice system? How it relies on the co-operation of all parties?"

"Sure," said Gibbs, "the co-operation of  _all_  parties: which means not wasting our time."

"I don't believe it is your responsibility to determine how the justice system should be run," said Carew coldly.

Gibbs shrugged again, an eloquent shrug which implied that the world would be a better place if it  _was_  his responsibility.

"You are in danger of being in contempt, Special Agent Gibbs," the Judge warned.

"I'm sure Agent Gibbs doesn't mean any disrespect, Your Honour," broke in Tony.

"Are you, Special Agent DiNozzo?" said the Judge turning to him, "and on what do you base that assumption?"

In McGee's experience, Tony was rarely lost for words but he was on this occasion.

"Special Agent Gibbs," said the Judge again, "are you intending to come to court as requested?"

"Not quite yet," said Gibbs.

"In that case," said Carew, "I'm holding NCIS in contempt."

Gibbs stood up then, waiting to hear what the Judge was going to do.

"Bailiff," said the Judge.

"Yes, Your Honour."

"Take Special Agent DiNozzo into custody and escort him to a cell. I think we will be needing to find him a cell in which to spend tonight."

"Hey!" shouted Gibbs, "it's me you should be holding in contempt, not my agent."

"I agree," said the Judge peaceably, "but you seem to be rather elusive. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Take him away."

The screen faded to black as Gibbs and McGee saw handcuffs being put on Tony as he was led away.

Director Vance was furious at the news and tried to bring 'the full weight of his office to bear' but the Judge had been cunning. He had given his order and then left for the day without anyone knowing where he had gone. Tony was taken to a local correctional facility and kept overnight. Vance lodged a complaint with the Department of Justice who, the next day, ruled that the Judge had exceeded his authority and that Tony should be released immediately.

Gibbs went to collect Tony in the morning. Tony shook hands with the prison officer who escorted him out,

"Thanks, Jeff. Remember me to Josie."

"Will do, Tony. She won't believe me when I tell her what happened."

Tony gave a tired smile, walked past Gibbs and into the waiting car. Gibbs followed him and handed him a fresh cup of coffee. Tony looked at it and put it in the cup holder where it remained untouched.

"See you met a friend," said Gibbs.

"Yes," said Tony, "it was a blast."

All Gibbs' attempts at conversation were similarly cut short and eventually he gave up. Abby was waiting in the squad room to give Tony an enthusiastic hug,

"To-nee, I was so worried. The sisters said a rosary for you."

"Thanks, Abs."

"Welcome back, Tony," said McGee, "bit like the Shawshank Redemption, eh?"

"No, nothing like," said Tony, "is the Director in his office?" And without waiting for a reply, he went up the stairs and knocked on the office door. Ten minutes later he returned, picked up his backpack and was gone. Gibbs' phone rang; it was the Director summoning him.

"Director?" said Gibbs as he entered his office, "what's up with DiNozzo?"

"He quit."

"What? Why?" demanded Gibbs.

"Why do you think, Gibbs? Seems he felt he was hung out to dry by his supervisor."

Gibbs ignored this, "And you just  _let_  him go, Leon?"

"Believe it or not, Gibb, I sympathised with him. What were you thinking? Defying a federal judge like that?"

"You know as well as I do that McIntosh Carew has been getting more and more unreasonable, Leon. It was time it stopped."

"Oh, and you were the person to do that? You know that I've put in complaints about him and that he was going to be investigated. In fact, he's being suspended pending an enquiry now."

"Good," said Gibbs, "now what about DiNozzo?"

"I persuaded him that he should think before he quits. Take some time off."

"How much time?" said Gibbs.

"Ask him yourself," said Vance, "I think you've got some fences to mend there, Jethro."

"He'll be fine," said Gibbs confidently, "he's not the type to bear a grudge."

NCISNCIS

Now, trying not to wilt under Tony's hostile gaze, Gibbs was not so sure about how forgiving Tony would be.

"Explain it to me; go on."

"Carew was being unreasonable," said Gibbs.

"And you were being Mr Accommodating, as usual?" asked Tony. Gibbs remained silent so Tony continued, "I told you that I thought he was losing it but you still didn't do anything. Would it have killed you to come down and argue with him?" Tony paused and then said in a voice of sudden understanding,

"Yes, it would have, wouldn't it? The great, almighty Gibbs having to bend the knee to someone, do what he was told."

"Hey," said Gibbs, stung, "I was a Marine. I can take orders!"

"But only if you respect the person giving them?"

"So?"

"Because being a federal office means upholding the institutions, Gibbs. We don't have to respect the people who hold high office but we have to respect that office."

Gibbs gave an impatient wave.

"But that's not you, is it, Gibbs? You have to make your own decisions, you have to make the rules."

"It's who I am," said Gibbs simply.

"Oh well, if it's who you are, what else is there to say? Gibbs has spoken. Nothing else to say."

"I didn't mean for you to get caught up in it, Tony," said Gibbs in a softer tone.

"Then what were you up to, Special Agent Gibbs? Enlighten me."

"I was going to go down," said Gibbs, "but ..."

"But what?"

"When he came on the screen in MTAC I could see that Carew was on the edge."

"So all the times I'd told you that, you didn't believe me?"

Gibbs waved his hand again, "I could see he was on the edge and that he might ..."

"Might what?"

"Do something stupid."

"And you wanted him to do something stupid?" asked Tony incredulously. "You wanted a federal judge to do something stupid?"

"It was an opportunity," said Gibbs.

"Oh, it was an  _opportunity_ ," said Tony, "I didn't realise it was an  _opportunity._  I just thought it was an old man about to lose his temper because a federal agent had refused to do what he was told. Silly me."

"And it worked," said Gibbs, "Vance told me that he's been suspended pending an investigation. We triggered something good."

"That's all right then," said Tony, "we've triggered something good."

"Yes, we have," said Gibbs, "it wasn't so bad, was it? You looked all right this morning."

Tony shot to his feet and strode over to Gibbs, breathing heavily.

"Of course, it was  _fine._  It's no problem for a federal agent, an ex-police officer, to go to prison. It's a really safe place. Like I said, it was a blast!"

"Hey, I'd have gone in your place," said Gibbs.

"But you didn't, did you? It was me who went. And I don't remember getting any concerned phone calls from you last night. Or did I miss them?"

"No, you didn't miss them. Vance and I were working on lodging the complaint."

"And you couldn't spare any time to find out where I was or how I was doing?"

"You're fine, DiNozzo."

"Thank you for your concern, Special Agent Gibbs.  _Fortunately_ , it turned out I had some friends in the facility and they made sure I wasn't put in with the other inmates, they kept me separate. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened? But I'm sure you would have got revenge."

"Yes, I would have, Tony," said Gibbs sincerely.

"Strangely, that's not a comfort," said Tony. "Still, I suppose I should be grateful you didn't plan the whole thing from start to finish – that you were just being your usual opportunistic self."

Gibbs thought Tony might be softening a bit, and chuckled.

"You've always been a glass half-full sort of guy, Tony."

Tony smiled sadly, "You know why that is?"

Gibbs shook his head,

"Because people keep knocking my glass over and spilling what's in it. So I've had to be a glass half-full sort of person."

"Tony, I ..." began Gibbs.

"But I always kinda thought  _you_  weren't one of the people who kept knocking my glass over," said Tony.

"I'm not," Gibbs assured him.

"Yeah, you are, yeah, you are," said Tony. "I think you should go now. I haven't got anything else to say to you and you've got nothing I want to hear."

"Tony ..." said Gibbs with a touch of desperation.

"Go, Gibbs, I'm all out of forgiveness. Go."

"This isn't over, Tony," said Gibbs with a last attempt at being in control.

"Yes, it is," Tony went to the door and held it open. Gibbs gathered his dignity and walked to the door. He raised a hand as if he wanted to pat Tony on the shoulder but Tony jerked back to avoid the touch. Gibbs left. Tony went into the bathroom to throw up. Then he switched the shower on again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

McGee always liked to wake up a few minutes before his alarm went off: he loved that awareness of lying in bed and not yet having to get up. The bed never felt more comfortable, the pillows softer than in those last stolen moments before he had to leave them. He was enjoying such a time when his peace was rudely interrupted by banging on his door. He groaned and, for a moment, thought of trying to ignore the noise. Only for a moment though; McGee was at heart a responsible and considerate person aware of his neighbours. He also knew that his next door neighbour was just looking for an excuse to start off a petition to have his tenancy revoked. With these thoughts rattling round his still-sluggish brain, he rolled out of bed and made his way to his door. He peered through the spy-hole and was surprised to see Tony standing in the corridor.

Tim opened the door,

"Tony? What's up? We get a case?"

"Wouldn't know, Tim. I'm not at work, remember?"

Tim flushed, embarrassed that he had forgotten the events of the last couple of days.

"Sorry, I forgot."

"Tut tut, McGee.’ _Sorry'?_ Don't let Gibbs hear you break one of his rules. Who knows what might happen?"

"Are you coming in? I could probably find something to fix us for breakfast."

"No. Can't stop. I wanted to ask you a favour."

"Sure, what is it?"

"That's very trusting of you, Tim. Don't you want to ask what it is before you say yes?"

This was both Tony-like and un-Tony-like. Tim tried to banish the sleep from his mind and peered at Tony; he sensed that for some reason this was an important question.

"No, I trust you," he answered although on other days he might have been more reluctant to say this. Today, however, he thought Tony needed this answer and today, he thought he could give it honestly.

"Will you look after Kate for me?"

This was unexpected although Tim realised that it shouldn't have been as Tony was carrying a fish bowl in his arms. Tim had just been too dozy to notice.

"Sure, but why?"

"Going away," answered Tony, "and Kate's a bit of a home-bird. Not very portable."

"How long for?" asked Tim. Tony hesitated and Tim hastened to ask, "You're coming back, aren't you?"

"Why does everyone want to know how long things are going to last?" asked Tony a little irritably. "I don't know, McGee but I know it'll be long enough that I don't want to leave Kate to the mercy of the girl down the hall. Will you do it for me?"

"Yes, I said I would. Any special instructions?"

"No," said Tony and with a glimmer of the usual Tony, continued, "I googled how to look after her. I'm sure you can do the same. She's not real particular."

"Where are you going?" asked McGee.

"Don't know, Tim. Just going to hit the road for a while."

"What shall I tell Gibbs?"

"No need to tell him anything. But I expect you will anyway, and I don't want to expose you to the wrath of Gibbs, so just tell him what I told you."

Tony held out the fishbowl and Tim took it. As he did so he noticed for the first time that Tony's skin was uncharacteristically pink.

"You got an allergy, Tony?" asked McGee, gesturing at his hands.

Tony looked at his hands and then put them in his pockets.

"No, but even top of the range shower gels irritate your skin when you shower as much as I have in the last few hours. See you, Tim. Appreciate it."

Tim turned to put the bowl on his desk and went back to the door. Tony was already gone. A terrible thought struck Tim, the stories about what could happen to a police officer in jail overnight came back with a jolt. He raced after Tony and caught up with him just as he got to his car. Tim grabbed his arm,

"Tony! Did something, did something happen to you while you were locked up?"

There was an odd look in Tony's eyes as he looked at Tim and considered his reply,

"What sort of thing, Tim?"

Tim blushed, "You know ... well, you know!"

Tony took pity on him, "No, Tim. 'Nothing' happened. Turned out I knew the prison officer. He put me in solitary for the night."

Tim sighed with relief, "That's all right then."

"No, it's not really, Tim. How did you feel when you were being held hostage in that women's prison?"

"Frightened; well, terrified really," said Tim honestly, "but it wasn't quite the same, was it?"

"No, you're right," said Tony coldly, "because you knew that we were all working to get you out. That we had your six."

"Tony?"

"You didn't have to think you were there because Gibbs decided to play hard ball with a pernickety old judge, just because he could."

"Tony?" pleaded Tim.

"There are different types of violation, Tim. Not just the one you were 'delicately' alluding to just now. Being let down by someone you trust feels like a violation."

"Tony!" said Tim with a touch of anguish.

Tony sensed Tim's distress and reached for his normal tone,

"Hey, it's all right, Timmy. How long did it take you to get that prison stench off you?"

Tim shrugged. He didn't remember the smell being that much of a problem although he had had nightmares about other things for weeks afterwards.

"Well, it took me fifteen showers and a whole bottle of 'Eucalyptus Energy' gel. Perhaps I should write to the makers and tell them they should make it stronger!"

"Will you phone?" asked McGee, "so we know you're all right?" His voice trailed off at the end, he wasn't sure 'all right' was the appropriate phrase to use.

"No offence, McGee. I'm going it alone this time. I've got a burn phone but I've left the other one in the apartment."

McGee noticed something else,

"This isn't your car."

A hint of amusement dawned in Tony's eyes, "Well done, that man. You'll do well as Gibbs' senior field agent."

" _Temporary_  senior field agent," insisted McGee.

"We'll see," said Tony, "no promises here."

"So why haven't you got your own car?" persisted Tim.

"You accusing me of stealing a car?" teased Tony.

"Answer the question, Tony."

"Let's just say, I don't want to be searched for and my usual beauty is a bit conspicuous. No BOLOs, Tim. I'm not a criminal. I just need some time away."

"I'm sure Gibbs is sorry," blurted out Tim.

Tony gazed at him sternly, "Tim, you know one of the things I admire about you?"

Tim shook his head, "Your honesty. You really suck at lying, so don't spoil your record. You can't know if Gibbs is sorry. And really, given his track record, can you be sure?"

As Tim struggled to find an answer, Tony clapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks, Tim. Look after yourself ... and Kate. Tell Abby – well, I'm not sure what you should tell her, but try and tell her not to worry. It's me, I'll be all right."

And with that he was gone. It was only as he turned the corner that McGee realised two things: one, he had forgotten to look at the license plate on Tony's car and two, Tony had not once used a mcnickname.

NCISNCIS

If it had been bad enough visiting Tony the night before, Gibbs felt it was ten times worse facing a distraught Abby in her lab.

"You've got to  _do_  something, Gibbs. You've got to go and get Tony back. You can't let him go like that."

"I tried, Abby, I went to see him last night," said Gibbs mildly.

"Then you've got to try again," said Abby firmly, "we  _need_  Tony here."

"He made it clear he didn't want to talk to me, Abs."

Abby wrung her hands in distress, trying to find a solution. There had to be a way to bring two of her favourite men back together.

"Perhaps you could say so-," she began, before trailing off in despair. She couldn't imagine Gibbs actually apologising.

"I'll try again tonight," promised Gibbs.

"You better, mister," said Abby, "I need my Tony back. It's not the same without him. I can't read the Tarot cards without him to help me. He's my glue."

Gibbs was conscious of an odd twist in his gut; somehow he had always thought  _he_  was the glue in Abby's life. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek,

"I'll go tonight. I'll go see Tony after work," he said.

"Uh, Boss," came McGee's voice from the door, "I don't think Tony will be there."

"What?" demanded Gibbs.

"He ... he ... came by my place first thing this morning. Asked me to look after Kate because he was going away."

"Where's he going?" asked Abby in panic.

"Don't know. He wouldn't say. Just said he was going to hit the road for a while."

"Why did you let him go, McGee?" wailed Abby.

"Couldn't stop him, Abs," said Tim, "he said to tell you he'd be fine."

"How'd he seem?" asked Gibbs gruffly.

Tim hesitated; Tony's words about betrayal echoing in his mind made him reluctant to discuss Tony's state of mind. Somehow he thought that might be another type of treachery. He remembered Tony's praise of him for being honest and decided that perhaps he could answer after all,

"Don't know, Boss. Honestly, didn't quite know what to make of it."

"Did he seem unhappy?" pleaded Abby.

Before Tim could answer, a visitor arrived.

"Tobias? What are you doing here?" asked Gibbs as he saw Agent Fornell enter the lab.

"Heard about NCIS' run-in with Carew yesterday. You certainly set Washington buzzing yesterday, Jethro," replied Fornell.

"Come to gloat?" asked Gibbs.

"No. I came to warn you."

"’Bout what?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, not you but DiNutso. Where is he? I couldn't see him upstairs."

"He's not here," said Gibbs feeling his gut twitch.

"Then you need to get hold of him quickly, Jethro."

"Why? What's going on?" asked Gibbs again.

"Jamie Yalland escaped from prison last night. And I think we can guess who he's going to come after," said Fornell.

Abby gasped and squeezed Bert. Gibbs' face turned even more stony.

"Who's Jamie Yalland?" asked McGee.

"Before your time, McGee," explained Fornell, "joint operation between NCIS and the Bureau. Tony went undercover in a video store."

"Video store?" queried McGee.

"Perfect assignment for DiNozzo," said Gibbs with a slight smile.

"Let's just say that some of the merchandise was a bit higher rating than PG-13," said Fornell drily.

"And there was some pretty hinky stuff going on to make the movies," added Abby, "people trafficking, drugs. It was nasty."

"And Tony managed to get in and bring it all down," said Gibbs with a touch of pride.

"Jamie Yalland was high up in the organization," continued Fornell, "there was a big shoot out when we went in. Some of Yalland's 'co-workers' were caught in the cross-fire, including his father. Left Yalland being the main person to prosecute. He was sentenced to life in prison and he went down screaming that he'd come for DiNutso."

"But isn't that what they all say?" said McGee hopefully.

"McGee, if you saw some of the stuff that Jamie Yalland did, you wouldn't want to take the risk," said Fornell.

"Tobias is right," said Gibbs, “we need to get DiNozzo back. Now!" He drew his cell out and hit speed dial #1.

"Boss, there's no point calling him," said McGee, "he said he was leaving his cell behind. He didn't want us to contact him."

"I'll trace his car," said Abby, "he's got Lo-Jack fitted. We'll find him," she turned happily to her computer.

"Uh, Boss," said McGee, aware that he was the bearer of more bad news, "he wasn't in his own car. Said it was too conspicuous. Guess he thought we might go looking for him."

Gibbs stormed into the squad room with Fornell and McGee trailing behind him. He started giving out his orders, conscious that in other circumstances Tony would have been on the job already; he pushed those thoughts aside.

"McGee, put a trace on Tony's cell."

"But, Boss, he said he left it behind," protested Tim.

"Don't assume, Tim. He might have just said that to throw you off. When you've done that, look at Tony's bank account and cards, see if you can get a money trail."

"Yes, Boss."

"Tobias, you in?"

"Sure," said Fornell, "it was Bureau business that made DiNutso the bulls’ eye here. What do you want?"

"You and I will go to his apartment. See if we can pick up any clues about where he was going."

"One moment," said Vance, coming down the stairs, "Hold up."

"Director, it'll have to wait. We've got to find DiNozzo," said Gibbs even as he snatched his weapon from his drawer.

"I know what's going on, Gibbs," said the Director, "Agent Fornell's boss called me a few minutes ago."

"Then you know that we've got to find DiNozzo," said Gibbs impatiently.

"Wait!" said Vance, "I've had a look at Yalland's file."

"Yes?" said Fornell.

"He's become a computer expert in prison," said Vance.

"So?" said Gibbs, almost quivering in his yearning to get moving.

"So, I think we need to tread carefully," said the Director calmly.

"Why?" demanded Gibbs.

"I see," said McGee, "if we do too many electronic searches, put BOLOs out and stuff like that, it may be that Yalland will pick up on them. We could end up doing his work for him."

"Precisely," said Vance approvingly, "if we set too many obvious searches going, have police forces looking for Agent DiNozzo, then Yalland may be monitoring their findings. We need to think how we're going to do this."

Gibbs slammed his gun back into the drawer and growled with frustration. He wanted to be  _doing_  something.

"All right," he said, "McGee, we still need to try and find out if we can track Tony through his money. D'you think you can do that without sending up any smoke signals?"

"Yes, Boss," said McGee confidently while wondering what Tony would have said about Gibbs likening his hacking to old Westerns.

"Tobias, can you get copies of the trial transcripts? They may help us too," said Gibbs.

"No problem. You know, Jethro, there's an irony here."

"There is?" replied Gibbs.

"The presiding judge was McIntosh Carew. He was highly praised for his handling of the trial. His summing up and direction were masterly. Yalland's legal team couldn't find a single loop-hole to base an appeal on."

Fornell wasn't sure what Gibbs' answering grunt meant.

NCISNCIS

Tony didn't really think that his team would put out a BOLO on his car, and he didn't think McGee had looked at the licence plate but he decided anyway to trade in the non-descript grey car for a non-descript one in beige. He couldn't have explained why he did it, he knew it wasn't logical but he felt an overwhelming need to be away from his co-workers – or more specifically, away from Gibbs. Perhaps he wanted show that he didn't need them, that he was more than capable even if he couldn't hack into a computer or shoot well enough to be a Marine sniper. For the moment he needed to think that he was good at something, he was weary of thinking he didn't measure up to  _someone's_  standards. He didn't want his friends to ask him sympathetic questions, to imagine themselves in his position and then give him well-meaning advice. He didn't want to examine things, pick them over, analyse them (although, in truth, that's all he found himself doing). Perhaps if he was away from anyone who knew him, from anyone who would want to pick at his sores, he could forget them for a while and allow those sores to heal.

He had a sudden yearning to go somewhere simple where the pace of life was slow. Somewhere like Stillwater although that would be the last place he would go; perhaps he could find somewhere like Springfield? Springfields in the movies always seemed good places to be. For a moment or two he toyed with the idea of visiting every Springfield in the country but his mind was too tired to plan so he decided just to drive until he arrived at some sleepy little town with just one movie-house.

He stopped off first at a bank and drew out a sizeable amount of cash. He smiled as he did so: he was the master of plastic; after all, bulky cash spoiled the lines of his suits but he still felt the need to fly beneath the radar and going card less would help with that. Besides, the weight of the wad of cash in his pocket made up a bit for the weight of his missing weapon: he had left his gun behind in his apartment along with his cell.

Hey, Tony tried to persuade himself: he had cash, wheels and time; he was free as a bird and, for once, nobody was out to get him. Life was sweet. He sighed, he hadn't managed to convince himself yet.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Tony soon found out that his beige sedan lacked some of the home comforts he was used to in his cars: the driver's seat seemed to be stuffed with concrete, there was no head rest and, most annoyingly of all, the radio didn't work. He had to listen to music on his IPod instead. He later concluded that his unconscious mind hadn't quite caught up with the idea that he was on vacation. No, vacation wasn't the right word; perhaps it was a hiatus, which was how they had taken to describing Gibbs' Mexican Sabbatical. Anyway, his unconscious hadn't registered the vacation so while he had been distracted by getting to know the new car, it had decided that he must be going to Norfolk.

Tony hadn't decided where to go but was pretty sure that it wasn't the Norfolk Navy Base, but the thought of being near the sea, all those open spaces was suddenly appealing so he decided to stay on the road to Richmond and then head south to the coast of North Carolina. He'd never been there before and the idea of going somewhere completely unknown, with no memories, no 'baggage' was a restful one. With his mind made up, he turned the music up a notch and joined in with Frank Sinatra's crooning. He skipped a track, however, when it came to 'I did it my way': it reminded him too much of Gibbs.

He resolutely turned his thoughts away from the events of the last couple of days; he hated driving when angry and he knew that he was still fuming about what Gibbs had done. He needed to wait until he was some place safer to lose his temper; perhaps he could find a gym with a punching bag to pummel. Frank Sinatra was singing something mournful so he switched again to some Chopin and tried to divert his mind by working out how he would play some of the pieces. That worked better and he was soon making good time along some quiet roads towards the coast. It wasn't quite contentment but he'd take what he could.

NCISNCIS

In the squad room at NCIS Tony's co-workers were also considering what to do next.

"McGee," said Gibbs, "put a BOLO out on DiNozzo's new car. Don't say it's because it's his. Just say that it belongs to a suspect in a navy incident."

"Er, Boss," said McGee nervously, "that's going to be a bit difficult."

"And why is that, Agent McGee? I seem to remember you putting out BOLOs before."

"Uh, yes, Boss, I know how to put out BOLOs," said McGee.

"Then put one out now," barked Gibbs.

"I don't have any details for one," admitted McGee.

"What d'you mean. You  _saw_  the car, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I don't have the licence plate."

Gibbs sighed in exasperation and was about to deliver one of his biting reprimands but then he realised that it wasn't unreasonable for McGee not to have memorised all the details about the car so he managed to say in a gentler voice,

"OK, just put out a general description."

"Boss?"

"What, McGee?"

"Boss, all I know is that it was a grey car. Bit beat up, a sedan, I think. Not much to go on for a nationwide BOLO."

"OK, McGee. Leave the BOLO. Get on to garages close to Tony's apartment and see if any remember selling a grey car in the last 24 hours."

"On it, Boss."

"Any luck on the money trail yet?"

"No, Boss. No activity at all. No, wait, he took $1500 out late yesterday. That car was pretty old, Boss, that's probably what he paid for it."

"OK. Find out what branch he took it out of and go look for car dealers round there. Carefully and quietly, McGee. We don't want to draw attention to this. With any luck, Yalland won't know DiNozzo isn't safely at home or work."

"Right, Boss. What are you going to do?"

"Fornell and I are going to go to DiNozzo's apartment. Make sure he  _has_  left his cell behind and that his usual car is still there. There might be some clues about where he's gone. Come on, Tobias, we haven't got all day."

Fornell didn't think he'd hesitated for even half a second and was about to tell Gibbs so but he recognised Gibbs' tension and let it go. He had a feeling that he and the rest of the team were in for a lot of tongue lashings from Gibbs if Tony didn't show up soon.

"And if we find him in bed at his apartment," groused Gibbs, "I'm gonna put him in protective custody until he retires." As they reached the elevator, he turned back and called to the Director, "Leon, we need publicity about Yalland's escape. If DiNozzo sees it on the news he'll know he's in trouble and get in contact."

"I'll get on it, Gibbs," promised Vance as the elevator doors closed.

Gibbs and Fornell parked about a block away from Tony's apartment. They didn't want to arrive in an obviously government owned vehicle. As they entered the lobby to the apartment block they were greeted with relief, and surprise, by Joe, the building supervisor,

"It's Special Agent Gibbs, isn't it? Tony's Boss?" At Gibbs' curt nod, he went on, "Wow, you got here quickly. Tony was right when he said that you drive like a madman. But I've only just called it in. It's amazing."

"What did you call in?" demanded Fornell, showing him his badge.

"Well," said the super a bit nervously. "I was taking a visitor up to see Tony and ..."

Alarm bells began to go off in Gibbs' head,

"Visitor? What visitor. Show us!"

Joe gulped as Fornell and Gibbs both drew their weapons and adopted defensive stances. He led the way up the stairs but when he was about to leave the stairwell, Gibbs tapped him on the shoulder,

"You stay here. Keep quiet. We'll handle this."

Gibbs nodded to Fornell who nodded back in agreement. They left the stairwell cautiously and made their way to the door to Tony's apartment where they could see Tony's visitor. It wasn't Yalland.

"Special Agent Gibbs. You got here very quickly."

"Judge?" said Fornell, "Your honour, what are you doing here?"

Judge McIntosh Carew was probably not used to federal agents questioning him so didn't answer directly.

"I came to see Agent DiNozzo. The building supervisor was kind enough to escort me up. When we got here we saw that the door was open slightly and we heard a crashing noise from inside. Joe called out but there was no reply. We went in and caught sight of someone climbing out of a window and down the fire-escape. Joe ran over but I'm not sure if he got a good look at the trespasser. I advised him to call NCIS. I must commend you on your celerity, Agents."

Fornell looked as if he didn't quite know what he was being complimented on so Gibbs said gruffly,

"Means 'speed', Tobias."

"I knew that. I do crosswords too," he took a moment to consider if the Judge was related to Ducky.

"Go get the super," ordered Gibbs. Fornell went although he was beginning to wonder how long he could take being told what to do by Gibbs.

"Tell us what you saw," said Gibbs as he saw Joe approach.

"Not a lot. I think he was a youngish guy. Medium height, brownish hair but I couldn't see much of it because he had a hoodie on."

"We'll need you to come down to the Navy Yard to make a statement," said Gibbs, "look at some mug shots. That OK?"

"Sure," said Joe, "hey, is Tony OK? I didn't see no blood or nothing."

"He's fine," lied Tobias hopefully, "why don't you go down to your office. We'll pick you up on our way out." He turned and saw Gibbs walking up to the Judge, "Jethro?" he said warningly, and “we'd better check the apartment. Er, Judge, why don't you wait with the supervisor. I expect we'll have some questions for you too."

An unexpected twinkle of amusement showed in Carew's eyes as he contrasted Fornell's tact and Gibbs' hostility. Fornell found himself taking charge after all as he steered Gibbs into Tony's apartment.

They quickly established that Joe was right. No sign of blood and little sign of a disturbance apart from a heap of DVDs on the floor which was probably the source of the noise Joe and the Judge had heard. Gibbs jerked his head towards the coffee table where Tony's cell lay alongside his laptop. Another thought occurred to him and he went and looked in Tony's gun safe and sighed when he saw the familiar weapon there.

Fornell went into Tony's bedroom and looked in the closet and drawers. He could see a whole rail of Tony's designer suits but no empty hangers.

"Doesn't look as if he took any fancy clothes with him," he remarked to Gibbs as he joined him.

"Looks like a backpack has gone and a canvas holdall," said Gibbs. He looked at his line of shoes, "looks like trainers and boots have gone. Smart shoes are still here," he went to another closet, "yeah, jeans and sweaters gone, looks like he was going for comfort."

Fornell had gone to look in Tony's bureau. "Passport's here," he called, "so he's not planning to leave the country. You got any idea where he'd go?"

Gibbs shook his head, "he might go to Ohio, he's still got friends from college there. He's still in contact with his frat brothers. We can try them."

"We might have to stake out every movie house in the country," joked Fornell. Gibbs gave a distracted half smile and Fornell decided to ask the question which had been puzzling him,

"How come you don't know where Tony is, Jethro? The kid doesn't usually go to the head without getting your say so."

"He's mad at me, Tobias," said Gibbs simply, "he blames me for getting him locked up by that lunatic judge."

"He's probably got a point, Jethro," said Fornell, "from what I heard, you provoked Carew."

"You saying it was right what he did?" demanded Gibbs fiercely, "locking a federal agent up? How's that right?"

"Hey," said Fornell, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "don't yell at me. Just saying, I'm not exactly clear why you didn't go down to the court house."

"Had other things to do," said Gibbs brusquely.

"More important things than doing what a Federal Judge ordered?" asked Fornell incredulously.

"A  _mad_  Federal Judge," said Gibbs fiercely.

Fornell opened his mouth to continue the argument but changed his mind, "Well, you and DiNutso will have to make your peace on that – if we ever find him."

"Won't find him this way," said Gibbs, "come on. I'll get a team out here to look for prints but I think we know that it was Yalland or one of his cronies who were here."

The Director was in the squad room when Fornell and Gibbs arrived back with their 'guests'. Vance was horrified; he thought Gibbs had arrested Carew and he wondered how to smooth that over. Fornell once again proved his worth as a diplomat and reader of minds,

"Director Vance," he said, "there's been a break-in at DiNutso's apartment. The Judge was there visiting and this is Mr Harris, the building supervisor: they witnessed the disturbance. We asked them to come back and give statements."

The Director breathed a sigh of relief and nodded gratefully at Fornell.

"I fear that 'witnessed the disturbance' is not a completely accurate description of events," said Carew in his precise way, "I just saw an open door and heard a bang. I then just caught a glimpse of someone making their getaway through a window. I don't believe I could be any more detailed than that."

"Course not," muttered Gibbs, "couldn't expect you to be helpful."

"I beg your pardon, Special Agent Gibbs, I didn't quite catch that," said the Judge.

The Director decided to intervene before Gibbs could reply.

"Your honour, it may be fortunate that you are here."

"And why is that, Director?" asked the Judge.

"I have been in discussion with the FBI and we feel that it would be wise for you to enter some sort of protective custody. We are concerned that Yalland might target you as well as Agent DiNozzo."

"Is that likely?" said Carew.

Gibbs almost brightened at the idea that Yalland might be after the Judge rather than Tony.

"We don't want to take any risk," said the Director, “we don't think you need to go into a safe house. We will suggest that you have either a NCIS or FBI agent in attendance at all times and spend daytimes in one of our offices."

"Very well," said the Judge, "after all, I am suspended at the moment so it won't take time away from my judicial duties. I am in your hands, Director. I know how to take instructions." And he turned to smile sweetly at Gibbs, "It seems we may be spending some time together, after all, Special Agent Gibbs."

At that moment, before Gibbs could explode, McGee ran into the squad room, saying excitedly, "I've found where Tony bought the car. It was just round the corner from his apartment. It's a grey Ford sedan and I've got the licence plate. I put a BOLO out on my way here."

"Good work, McGee," said Gibbs, thinking that something might be going right after all, "we think Yalland broke into DiNozzo's apartment. He was disturbed by Judge Carew and the building super and got away."

McGee's face fell, "so he is after Tony! Damn. I thought we might be overreacting." He tapped into his PC, "Boss, there's been some activity on another of Tony's accounts. He drew out another $2500 a couple of hours ago."

"Is he going to buy another car?" asked Fornell.

"Nope, he's probably using cash to stay off the radar," said Gibbs.

"Just how mad at you is he, Jethro?" asked Fornell.

"Madder than hell," said Gibbs grimly.

"Still," said McGee hopefully, "the news about Yalland's escape is going to be everywhere soon. Tony will hear about it and get in contact, won't he?"

"Course he will," said Vance, "of course he will."

NCISNCIS

It was late afternoon and Tony was sitting outside at a beach front cafe gazing out at the ocean. It was a bit chilly but he felt the need to be out in the fresh air after a day cooped up in his uncomfortable car. His prison stay might have been brief but he was still relishing having the choice of where to go and, at the moment, sitting inside felt confining.

He closed his eyes and let the sea breeze blow over his face. He sensed someone approaching him and, opening his eyes, jerked back in surprise. Then he sighed in relief; for a moment, with the guy approaching him against the sun, it had looked like Gibbs but now he saw that the hair was even whiter than Gibbs' and the eyes were brown rather than blue.

"Sorry, son, didn't mean to make you jump. Millie asked me to bring your order out."

"Thanks, sorry, I'd zoned out a bit there," said Tony as he accepted the burger and fries.

"Well, it's a good spot to zone out in," said the other man as he narrowed his eyes to look out to the sea. "I've lived here fifteen years now and it's still beautiful to me. John Sutherland," he said, extending a hand to Tony.

"Tony. Tony DiNozzo," said Tony as he shook John's hand, "and you're right. It's lovely. I've never been to North Carolina before."

John gestured towards the seat opposite Tony in a silent request to join him. Tony nodded, unexpectedly he felt the need for company and he liked the look of John. He could almost hear Gibbs' disapproval of such easy acceptance and he winced.

"Something wrong, son?" asked John, "folks don't usually wince at Millie's cooking till after they've started to digest it."

"No, I'm sure the food's delicious," said Tony, "someone walked over my grave, that's all."

"I hope not, son," said John seriously, "you look a mite too young to be thinking of graves."

Tony thought of telling him that he saw rather too much death in his line of work to think that it was confined to the young but he didn't want to share that much with his companion so he just smiled and took a bite of his burger. Which was delicious. John must have seen something of Tony's pleasure,

"Don't tell her I said so," he said in a confidential whisper, "but she's the best cook in either of the Carolinas."

Tony didn't waste eating time by replying and made short work of his food. Millie must have been watching and came out with apple pie and cream as soon as he had finished. Tony stood up, took her hand and kissed it,

"Millie, your food could cure all ills!" he said extravagantly.

Millie laughed with delight, "Well after forty years of cooking, I'd certainly hope I'd learned a thing or two."

"Where are you headed?" asked John.

Tony stretched luxuriously, "I don't know. I'm just ambling along a bit. No plans."

The perceptive John and Millie looked a bit concerned that this nice young man should be so aimless but, for the moment at least, decided not to pry.

"I'm looking for somewhere to sleep tonight. Is there a hotel near?"

Millie laughed. "Nearest hotel is about five miles down the road but it's closed for refurbishment at the moment. It's not quite the season yet."

Tony looked a bit forlorn at the thought of having to leave the pleasant spot he had come across. Millie laughed again, it was a nice laugh,

"You're not very observant, are you?"

Tony was about to retort that he was  _very_  observant but had to laugh himself when he realised that Millie was pointing to a sign in her cafe window, 'Bed and Breakfast – Vacancies.'

"Millie," he said hopefully, "do you cook the breakfast?"

"I do indeed. I should warn you, though. The rooms are a bit basic. Nothing fancy and the TV's not working. But the beds are real comfortable and there's nothing like the sound of the ocean to lull you to sleep."

"I'll take it," said Tony at once, "and don't worry about the TV. There's nothing at the moment I want to look at except that beautiful ocean. And your apple pie."

 


	4. Chapter 4

Millie had been telling the truth when she said that her rooms were basic but Tony's room was light, airy, scrupulously clean and with a stunning view out across the ocean. Tony thought it was testimony to how tired he was that he didn't even try to switch the TV on. He opened the windows before going to bed; the painful memory of his cell door being slammed shut still made him feel easily claustrophobic and he would have slept outside if he could. Despite his tiredness, he tossed and turned for a long time before finally being lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves lapping on the beach. The picture of Gibbs in MTAC shrugging his shoulders as he defied Judge Carew took a long time to fade.

Tony got up early and went for a run along the beach but made sure he was back in time for Millie's breakfast. He sat outside again and Millie brought him crispy bacon and scrambled egg; she also brought the newspaper.

"You were up early this morning. Everything all right?" she asked.

"I went for a run along the beach. I'm used to being up early," he said, not wanting to admit to a restless night.

Millie poured him a cup of coffee and left him to eat. He cast an eye on the front page of the paper: the front page was dominated by reports on the verdict in a movie star libel case, on a possible medical breakthrough in the treatment of arthritis and on the latest housing market report. There was nothing that piqued his interest so he turned to the sports pages, reasoning that he was on vacation/hiatus and was allowed to step off from the world for a while.

John arrived just as Tony was reading about the latest speculation about new drugs testing being introduced in the NBA. John lived about half a mile down the road in what he called a beach shack but tended to come to Millie's for most of his meals. After all, he reasoned, with a cook like Millie so close, it was almost sinful to cook for himself.

"What are your plans, Tony?" he asked, "moving on today?"

Tony found himself reluctant to leave. The itchy feet which had driven him out of Washington seemed to have calmed down and were happy to stay where they were for the moment.

"Don't know," he said, "I think I might stay on for a few days. If Millie has room, that is."

Millie came out at that moment carrying John's sausages and fried eggs and overheard him,

"It's quiet at this time of year. I've got some people coming at the weekend but you can stay till then."

Tony nodded his thanks and returned to his breakfast. After the two men had given the reverent attention due to Millie's food, John got up.

"Drop in for coffee later on," he suggested, "if you've got nothing better to do. It's only instant, my coffee maker's bust – but it's better than nothing."

Tony smiled at the thought of someone who could manage on instant coffee; for some reason it drew him to John still more.

"Thanks, I might see you later then."

John called out a farewell to Millie and ambled off. Tony gazed after him for a moment or two, envying his apparent contentment and then, squashing feelings of guilt at being so lazy and uninterested in the goings-on of the world, put his sunglasses on and stared out to sea.

NCISNCIS

McGee almost ran into the squad room that morning,

"Have you heard from Tony, Boss?" he demanded.

He was met with a sour look and a raised eyebrow from a Gibbs who looked sleep-deprived.

"Sorry, Boss. Of course, you'd have told us. But the story of Yalland's escape was on the TV News last night and it's in the papers. He'll be in touch soon."

Gibbs waved his newspaper at him,

"It's not on the front page, McGee. Tucked away inside. Knocked off the front page by that stupid libel case."

"Now, now, Jethro," said Ducky soothingly as he entered the squad room carrying cups of coffee, "you know how Tony likes to keep up with things. And can you really imagine him not watching TV? No, no, he'll be in touch very soon, I'm sure."

Gibbs didn't look reassured. The Director arrived at that moment with Judge Carew behind him.

"Leon," said Gibbs without any greeting, "you need to contact the newspapers again. Make them put Yalland's escape on the front page."

Carew intervened before Vance could speak, "Dear, dear, Agent Gibbs. I'm afraid there is the small matter of Freedom of the Press. I'm sure you've heard of the First Amendment to the Constitution. I regret that your Director, powerful and influential though he may be, does not have the power and influence to force newspapers to adjust their reporting to suit your requirements." He bestowed one of his beatific smiles on Gibbs.

Vance hastened to say, "Thank you, Your Honour, I'll bear that in mind," he bestowed what he hoped would be a quelling look at Gibbs and went on, "Judge Carew will be spending the day at NCIS as part of our protecting him. I'm going to find him a room."

"Why, Director, I don't need a whole room. Why don't I stay here? I could sit at Agent DiNozzo's desk as we know that, unfortunately, it is unlikely that he will be attending work today."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the Director found himself having to suppress a desire to laugh. The Judge seemed to have an unerring instinct for how best to irritate Gibbs.

"Agent McGee," asked the Judge politely, "would you mind bringing me a cup of coffee. Decaffeinated if you have it, very weak, lots of cream and two and a half level spoons of sugar. Thank you so much." And with that, he settled himself at Tony's desk with his laptop.

The Director, Ducky and McGee stared at him in fascinated horror while Gibbs decided on an attitude of lofty disdain. McGee scurried off the find the coffee while the Director and Ducky decided to find other places to be.

Not surprisingly, the Judge broke the tense silence,

"I have started to look through the trial transcript to re-familiarise myself with the case of Jamie Yalland in case there is some insight to be gained into how his mind works."

Gibbs grunted in a slightly less hostile tone.

As the morning progressed, McGee continued to monitor Tony's bank accounts and the BOLO out on Tony's grey sedan. He also tried to find out where Tony might have bought his burn phone but he knew that was a near impossible task: there was no way to know when Tony had acquired it. Somehow McGee suspected he might always have one ready to use in an emergency. He decided to strike an optimistic note,

"You know, Boss, if we can't find Tony it's not very likely that Yalland will, is it?"

"Ya think, McGee?" growled Gibbs, "Yalland had a head start on us. How do we know that he wasn't staking out Tony's apartment and already knew what type of car he'd bought? Or he might have found a clue to where Tony was going when he broke in – a clue we then couldn't find?"

"Yes, Boss, sorry, I didn't think of that," said a contrite McGee.

He was saved from further reprimand by the arrival of Ducky, this time carrying sandwiches and drinks. He pointedly placed a sandwich on Gibbs' desk,

"Even you cannot live on coffee alone, Jethro. Eat this, doctor's orders."

Gibbs glared at the offending food but grudgingly took a half-hearted bite. He was struggling to swallow it when McGee's phone rang.

"Special Agent McGee ... where? Is it still there? No, don't approach. Keep it in sight. We're on our way," he put the phone down, "Boss. That was Baltimore PD. They've spotted Tony's car. It's in Baltimore."

The food and drink were forgotten as Gibbs and McGee grabbed their gear and raced out of the room.

"Tell Abby," shouted McGee from the elevator.

They were nearing Baltimore when the call came through that the car was on the move. Gibbs told them to follow at a discreet distance and McGee started tapping into traffic cameras to try and get a visual on the car. It seemed, however, that the car was beginning to go on less frequented roads with fewer cameras.

"Where do you think Tony's going, Boss?" asked McGee, even as he wondered if it was a good idea to distract Gibbs while driving.

"Don't know, McGee," said Gibbs, "I just hope it's DiNozzo driving and not Yalland. This doesn't look the sort of place DiNozzo would pick for a drive."

McGee swallowed at the thought of Yalland driving Tony out to some isolated place. Thanks to Gibbs' aggressive driving they were soon able to catch up with the Baltimore police and they agreed to take up the trail with the police remaining on standby. Gibbs exercised unusual patience as he followed the grey sedan through a warehouse district and then out into a residential area.

"I can't see who's driving," said McGee, "he looks shorter than Tony but he's got a hoodie on. Didn't the Judge say that the person who broke into Tony's apartment was wearing a hoodie?"

"Lots of people wear hoodies," said Gibbs. The grey sedan turned on to another industrial estate and Gibbs decided to bring matters to a conclusion.

"Hold on," he said, rather unnecessarily as McGee had been reluctant to let go of anything the entire journey. Gibbs accelerated past the car, swung round in front of it and was out in a flash with gun at the ready. McGee was only half a second behind. They raced to the car,

"Hands on the wheel," Gibbs demanded, "keep them where we can see them."

McGee hoped that they would hear Tony's plaintive voice asking them why they were chasing him but instead they heard a high pitched voice wailing,

"Don't shoot. Don't shoot! I haven't done anything!"

That didn't sound like Yalland and they soon found out it wasn't. A pimply teenager on the verge of hyperventilating was sitting trembling behind the wheel. Gibbs and McGee did a quick search of the car but knew they weren't going to find anything.

"Where did you get this car?" demanded Gibbs.

"From Al's Used Cars," came the reply.

"When did you buy it?" asked McGee.

"This morning," stuttered the lad who then burst into tears.

NCISNCIS

Judge Carew looked on with interest when Gibbs and McGee returned with the pimply boy.

"That's not Agent DiNozzo," he observed.

Gibbs cast him a look of pure dislike.

"And I don't think it's Jamie Yalland either," he added.

"It's Paul Thomas," said McGee, "he was driving the car."

"Without a licence and without insurance," growled Gibbs. "McGee, take him to interrogation."

"Special Agent Gibbs," said Carew, "I trust you have apprised this young man of his rights?"

"Yes, of course," answered McGee for Gibbs.

"Good," said the Judge, "am I to understand that you believe Mr Thomas to have purchased the vehicle in question?"

"Er, yes," said McGee, guessing that Gibbs wasn't going to answer.

"Then what grounds do you have for questioning him?"

"Didn't you hear?" exploded Gibbs, "driving without a licence and without insurance!"

"Very reprehensible, I am sure, but it poses an interesting dilemma, does it not? Are such matters within your jurisdiction? And how did you establish this was the case? I fear it is not obvious to me that you have any legal right to pursue a case against Mr Thomas when you discovered his misdeeds by accident. Mr Thomas, I would recommend that you acquire legal representation before saying anything."

Gibbs made a strangled sound of disgust and left the room muttering, "Coffee!"

The Judge smiled another of his infuriating smiles and resumed his work.

McGee called Legal and decided to let them disentangle things. It was clear that Paul had nothing to do with Tony's disappearance and was probably completely terrified after being driven back to Washington with Gibbs at the wheel. Ducky and Abby arrived soon after for an update.

"Turns out that Tony sold the grey sedan. Must have been just after he left me. The dealer took it in exchange for a beige sedan – I've got the licence plate and I've put another BOLO. I'll start looking at the traffic cameras, see if I can spot it anywhere."

"I'll help you, Timmy," said Abby, "let's go down to my lab."

Ducky trailed away disconsolately leaving the Judge on his own. Gibbs came back with a new cup of coffee and seemed to decide it was time to confront the Judge.

"What are you doing here, Judge?"

Carew gazed up at him serenely, "Being protected, I hope."

"Why here? Why not at the FBI?"

"Why, I suppose I feel more at home here. I feel I've got to know you all so well."

Gibbs glared at him and then asked another burning question,

"So why did you go to DiNozzo's place yesterday?"

"Aahh," said Carew thoughtfully, "well ... I went to apologize to him."

"Apologize?" said Gibbs, shaken from his customary stoicism, "apologize?"

"Yes. I behaved rather badly to him and I wanted him to know that."

"You sure did," said Gibbs hotly.

"You misunderstand, Special Agent Gibbs. I still believe I was justified in asking you to attend my court room but I made an error of judgement in holding Agent DiNozzo in contempt. I should not have done that."

"No, you shouldn't," agreed Gibbs.

"I have already said so," said the Judge,” and it is a mistake for which I will pay a heavy price. Nevertheless, I wanted Agent DiNozzo to know that I regretted my actions."

"Won't get you off the hook," said Gibbs with some satisfaction.

"No, it will not," confirmed the Judge, "and I am ready to face the consequences of what I did in a moment of temper which did not befit a member of the judiciary. I wanted Agent DiNozzo to know that even if there were  _no_  consequences for me, I was sorry for what I had done. I hope I will still get that opportunity. Unlike you, Special Agent Gibbs, I do not believe apologies to be a sign of weakness. I believe they can be a way of acknowledging and regretting an error and then moving on. You might want to try it some time." With that, he took a sip of an undoubtedly weak and milky coffee and returned to his work.

NCISNCIS.

At about the same time, Tony was talking to John Sutherland. He had taken up John's invitation to coffee and found himself staying on afterwards. John was an artist, his beachside shack was filled with vivid seascapes and an occasional portrait.

Tony was primarily a 'people' person and found himself drawn to the portraits,

"These are good," he said.

"How do you know?" asked John, "they might not look anything like the sitters!"

"I doubt that," said Tony, "and anyway, it doesn't matter. You've caught something of them. They're alive."

John nodded in appreciation, "Used to do it for a living," he said.

"You painted portraits?"

"Yes. You might not believe it to look at me, but I was a real fashionable artist. Company directors, Judges, movie stars – they all wanted me to paint them."

"What happened?"

"Got bored with it. Seemed to me I was painting people with empty eyes, couldn't bear the look of all them all hanging in my studio. All those blank eyes staring down at me. So I quit and came here."

"Sounds romantic. Or something out of a movie," suggested Tony.

"Wish it was," said John, "my family couldn't understand it. My wife left me, my son can hardly bear to talk to me even now."

"I'm sorry," said Tony, feeling inadequate.

"No need," said John. "I've been here fifteen years now, the pain fades after a while and this is a healing place to be."

"It seems to be," agreed Tony.

"What's the matter with you that you need healing, Son?" asked John.

Tony grimaced a bit at the word 'Son'.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," said John.

Tony felt the sudden attraction of confiding in someone and he decided to place some trust in John. "Not really used to being called Son," he said.

"Is your father dead?"

Tony gave a half laugh, "No. But I don't think he's ever called me Son. Not really his style."

"What is his style?"

"Let's just say that he wouldn't understand you giving up doing something well paid just because you thought the eyes looked empty. He'd see the gain not the pain."

"What's he done to send you here?"

"Oh, nothing. Well, nothing new. Haven't heard from him for a few months and probably won't till he needs something."

"So why you here?  ’Cos I'm guessing it's something pretty recent."

"Someone I trusted let me down and I don't know what to do about it."

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Someone I trusted let me down and I don't know what to do about it."

John took a sip of his coffee as he considered his reply,

"Is that why you're here? To find an answer?"

"Nothing so organised," laughed Tony, "I wanted to quit my job but my boss, well my boss's boss persuaded me to take time off instead. But I didn't want to hang around Washington so I hit the road and ended up here."

"What's your job, Tony?"

"I'm a federal agent. NCIS – that's Navy Criminal Investigative Service. I was a cop before that."

John nodded, he probably wouldn't have pegged Tony as a type of cop but somehow it made sense once he knew.

"So I have this boss: Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He's a former marine; real alpha male. Let's just say he's demanding!"

"How long have you worked for him?" asked John, thinking that perhaps Gibbs was a recent arrival.

"Over ten years."

"Ten years? So, up to now everything's been OK?"

"Like I said, he's demanding ... and unreasonable ... and impossible. Lives by his rules and expects everyone else to as well."

"And he's been like that for ten years?"

"John, I would guess he was like it in his crib. Probably gave his mom head slaps if she wasn't quick enough with his meals."

"Head slaps?"

"He calls them wake-up calls. Part of moulding us," said Tony with a reminiscent smile.

"Sounds dreadful," said John.

"I know. To outsiders it's always looked as if Gibbs is a bully."

"But not to you?"

"No. I always felt as if I was on the  _inside._ I think the head slaps are a sign of affection and I've always thought that deep down, very deep down, he cared. And he's good at his job, taught me a lot."

"So, what changed?"

"He pissed off a federal judge – who retaliated by holding the agency in contempt."

"How did that affect you?"

" _Affect_  me?" said Tony bitterly, "I was standing next to the judge at the time and he decided that, as I was available, he'd send me off to prison until Gibbs came to his senses."

"My God," said John, "was he insane?"

"Who? Gibbs or the Judge. Or both? Don't know, John, but it was me who got caught up in their machinery."

"And did you really go to prison?"

"Oh yeah. Hey, it was only for one night. Give Gibbs and the Director their due, they worked on it and got the Judge suspended. Gibbs even turned up the next morning with a cup of coffee for me."

"My God," said John again.

Tony shrugged his shoulders but was oddly comforted by John's horror: it gave him permission to think that he hadn't overreacted.

"Did this Gibbs say why he'd done it?" asked John.

"Gibbs doesn't go in for explanations," said Tony, "you're expected to catch on quickly or just follow blindly. I don't think he cares which. But he said something about seeing an opportunity – seems he'd been out for the judge for a while and he'd seen a chance to push his buttons. He was hoping for some sort of reaction."

"And did he apologize when he realised the fallout?"

Tony had just taken a sip of his coffee and he choked at John's suggestion.

"Gibbs doesn't do apologies," he said simply when he had recovered.

"Why not?"

"Sign of weakness," Tony told John.

John shook his head, not quite believing what he was being told.

"You see," continued Tony, "Gibbs has this big thing about having your team mates' six, not leaving a man behind. And I've always trusted that. He's done some things I haven't liked/agreed with over the years. Well, you can guess that his people management skills wouldn't win any awards with HR, but I've always thought that, at the core of everything, he'd never hang me out to dry. And now he has. And I don't know what to do about that."

"I don't know what to say," said John.

"Good," said Tony.

"Good?" replied John.

"Yeah, good. I wouldn't trust any instant, glib answer. If I had an easy answer I guess I wouldn't have hightailed it out of DC and covered my tracks."

"Covered your tracks?" asked an intrigued John.

Tony had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I work with some really clever tech-y people and remember, I work for a federal agency. They'd be able to trace my car, my phone, my bank accounts – I really don't want them turning up on my doorstep trying to persuade me to go back. I'm not ready for that."

"So what did you do?"

"Left my cell and laptop at home. Bought a burn phone. Took out a wad of cash and bought a different car. Well, actually, two."

"Two?" said John faintly.

"That was probably overdoing it a bit," said Tony, "but I took Kate to stay with one of my co-workers and he saw the first one."

"Is Kate your partner? Or your daughter?"

"No, my goldfish. Although she is named after my former partner. She was killed by Ari: the half-brother of another partner of mine."

"I need another coffee," said John.

"And I need to find somewhere to garage my car," said Tony, "I don't think they'd put a BOLO out on it but Abby does get overenthusiastic sometimes."

"Abby?"

"Our lab tech. She's a Goth. Who goes bowling with nuns."

"It sounds like someone could make a musical out of this," observed John.

"Hmmm, I have a feeling that it would be more like a tragic opera, especially if they set it in Autopsy with Ducky."

"Ducky?"

"The ME. He's from Scotland and likes to talk to dead bodies. Well, actually, he just likes to talk."

John shook his head but Tony smiled,

"I miss them. Well, most of them. Not so much Gibbs at the moment. So, do you have suggestions?"

"How long is it before you have to go back to work?"

"I had about a month's worth of comp time, some vacation time as well. The Director said to take as long as I need."

"In that case, I'd say stay here. Like I said, it's a healing place and it might give you the space you need. Walk along the beach, go exploring, eat Millie's food, regroup a bit."

"Millie said I could stay till the end of the week."

"Stay longer. I've got a hut at the bottom of the garden, you can stay in that if you like. Come to Millie's with me for meals."

"You're very trusting. You don't know me, John. I may be telling you a tissue of lies."

"Tony," said John, "I can't believe you could make all that up. If you were lying, I think you'd have thought up something a bit more normal."

"Normal's not a word that gets applied to Gibbs and co very often. If you mean it, I'd be glad to accept. It's not as if anyone's after me for anything at the moment. The team might be a bit annoyed with me for not being in touch but they'll get over it".

So it was that Tony unpacked his bags and prepared for a stay on the North Carolina coast. He was content for the moment to walk everywhere and Millie found him somewhere to garage his car. The TV in his room occasionally burst into life but he had found Millie's collection of 1960s movie DVDs and was happy to watch those instead. He realised that his life had been one of structure and order since his College sporting days and now he was relishing drifting without responsibility. He occasionally wondered how the team were faring back in Washington but until he had come to some sort of resolution about Gibbs he felt no wish to contact them.

NCISNCIS

Tony's days might be passing relatively tranquilly in North Carolina but the same could not be said of those of the MCRT in Washington.

A painstaking examination of Tony's apartment had revealed a hair which was a darker brown than Tony's. Abby was able to confirm that it belonged to Jamie Yalland so the team now knew that it was he who had broken into Tony's apartment. Yalland seemed, however, to have gone to ground completely.

Vance had speculated that Yalland might have made one attempt at getting to DiNozzo and then given up when it had failed but nobody could be sure. Then the laptop Yalland had used in prison was delivered into McGee's hands and he managed to hack into some hidden files: those files revealed that he had gathered extensive information about Tony and somehow knew, not only his address, but where he banked, where he had a gym membership, which dry cleaner he used and a multitude of other information. McGee realised Yalland probably knew more about Tony than they did. There no longer seemed any doubt that Yalland was determined to get to Tony.

Unfortunately for Gibbs, McGee also uncovered files on the Judge: not so many but enough to suggest that Carew was also a target and needed to remain under protection. Gibbs had a couple of days respite when the Judge decided to go to the FBI instead as he needed to do some work there but as soon as possible he swam back into Gibbs' orbit.

The BOLOs on Tony and his car had not returned anything; there had been no activity on his bank accounts and McGee had been unable to find anything about his burn phone. Despite Gibbs' demands, "Find me something. NOW!” they were no nearer working out where their co-worker was. They continued to monitor the traffic cameras but beige sedans were depressingly common and they had no way of knowing if they were looking in the right place. In an echo of the Ari days, Gibbs spent hours staring at the traffic camera footage for the day on which Tony had bought the car but he got nothing but headaches to show for it.

Ducky and Vance insisted he go home each night as even his legendary ability to go without sleep reached its limits. They couldn't ensure that he slept when he went home and Ducky suspected that he spent all night in his basement working on some eccentric project. In this he was only partly correct. Gibbs often drove out to his cabin in the woods; not because he wanted peace and quiet but because he always half expected to find Tony there. The rest of his time away from work was spent in the basement, not working but with an ear ever cocked for the familiar sound of Tony's feet padding down the stairs.

For Gibbs clung to the idea that Tony would seek him out, would come when Gibbs was on his own and they could talk things through; that somehow they would be able to get back to their almost telepathic understanding. In his darkest moments, Gibbs wondered whether they had ever had that telepathic understanding: was it just that Tony reacted really quickly just to follow Gibbs' lead? In his even darker moments, he wondered if they hadn't found Yalland because he had already killed Tony, dumped his body and then made an escape down South.

He ate because he knew if he did not, that his team wouldn't either but he rarely remembered to go and get food. Ducky and Abby mostly supplied the sustenance, carefully choosing basic, simple food which couldn't be seen as anything other than fuel for the task at hand. Enjoyment was not a word to describe the MCRT at the moment.

Except that McIntosh Carew seemed to be getting a perverse enjoyment from needling away at Gibbs. He was always courteous, never raised his voice, never argued but he seemed to have an opinion on everything and it was always an opinion at odds with that held by Gibbs. Gibbs had vaguely heard of the saying 'hell is other people'; on the days when Carew 'graced' the squad room with his presence, Gibbs would have been inclined to amend the saying to 'hell is McIntosh Carew'.

On the seventh day of Tony's absence, however, the Judge said something which was of more interest to Gibbs.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he said in the precise way which seemed perfectly designed to raise Gibbs' hackles. Gibbs raised his bloodshot eyes to peer at Carew,

"What?"

"I know that I do not appear to be Jamie Yalland's primary target for revenge but Special Agent McGee's good offices have uncovered that I am a party of some interest to him."

Gibbs nodded, hoping he wasn't going to receive a lecture on the ethics of McGee's hacking into the prisoner's computer.

"And as you do not appear to be having any success in establishing the whereabouts of either Special Agent DiNozzo or Jamie Yalland, I would like to make a suggestion."

"Yes?"

"I suggest that, under due surveillance of course, I should make myself an obvious and simple target."

"What?"

"Surely you understand, Special Agent Gibbs. I am suggesting that, in some way, I appear to be in a vulnerable position to entice Yalland into making an attack on me."

"Uh?"

"I will be your bait, Special Agent Gibbs."

"You'd do that?" said Gibbs beginning, very slightly, to revise his opinion of his nemesis.

"Assuredly. Well, on the proviso that you provided as much security as feasible."

"Why? Do you feel guilty?"

"Why should I feel guilty, Special Agent Gibbs? It is hardly my fault that Jamie Yalland escaped from prison and decided to seek vengeance by attacking Special Agent DiNozzo. I will agree that there has been an unfortunate concatenation of events but I feel no need to accept responsibility for that."

"Jeez," said Gibbs, "don't you know any words with just one syllable?"

"Yes," said the Judge, "now do you wish to accept my offer?"

"Why not?" said Gibbs, "it might work."

"And if it has a fatal outcome, you will be rid of me, Special Agent Gibbs. It seems to me that you cannot lose," said the Judge with an unexpected note of humour.

"D'you have any ideas about where you might be in a vulnerable position?" asked Gibbs.

"None whatsoever," said Carew, "but I am confident that you will think of something."

In the end it was McGee who came up with an idea.

"I see from your list of interests, Your Honour, that you sometimes act as guide at the Manley Thripp Museum?"

"The what?" asked Gibbs.

"You are very thorough, Special Agent McGee," said the Judge approvingly. "Manley Thripp was a nineteenth century lawyer who did seminal work on the evolution of the American Constitution, a subject close to my own heart. A group of like-minded enthusiasts and I recently set up a museum in his honour. When my duties on the bench allow, I act as guide and legal interpreter at the museum. I find it most rewarding. Special Agent McGee has had an excellent idea. I think it would be a good place to set our trap since, alas, we do not currently get many visitors to the museum. Sadly, the work of Manley Thripp is not at the forefront of people's minds."

"Fancy that," said Gibbs drily.

As it happened, the Judge was already on the museum rota for the following day so it would not seem strange that he was on his own there. It was agreed that he would be wired for sound and that some agents would be positioned in and around the building, listening in.

The next day it seemed that the Judge might be having second thoughts. "I do hope that there will not be a shootout in the museum itself. I would hate for Manley's statue to be damaged". Gibbs cast a disparaging eye at the bust of a rather supercilious looking nineteenth century gentleman and thought a bullet hole might improve it.

McGee took the first stint of listening in and was relieved by Gibbs after half an hour.

"All quiet, Boss," he reported, "the Judge is just reading a book. No visitors yet."

Gibbs spoke into his microphone to let the Judge know that he had taken over from McGee. The Judge took this as his cue,

"You know, Special Agent Gibbs, even after spending so much time with you over recent days I am still at a loss as to why you are so antagonistic towards me."

"I don't think this is quite the time to be discussing this, Judge," replied Gibbs.

"Don't you? I think it is the perfect time. Neither of us has anywhere else to be. So, pray enlighten me, Special Agent Gibbs. Why don't you like lawyers?"

"I don't dislike  _all_  lawyers. I know they're necessary evils."

"Necessary evils. That's a rather depressing way of describing our noble profession. You see, Special Agent Gibbs, I regard justice as one of the most important foundations of a fair society and Law should be the way to safeguard that foundation and make sure that justice is available to all."

"I believe in justice too," protested Gibbs, "but sometimes the Law gets in the way and prevents it happening."

"You would prefer to rely on your 'famous gut' rather than the due process of the Law?"

"Not entirely, no, of course not. But it seems to me that the Law is sometimes too concerned with trivialities; that the whole process is too long and complicated."

"Special Agent Gibbs," said the Judge, “I pride myself that I have the lowest percentage of cases overturned on appeal and that is because I have always been meticulous in following every requirement. I would remind you that legal safeguards are there because there have been times in the past when people have abused their authority and put others in a vulnerable position."

"I understand that, Judge," said Gibbs, "but it seems that lawyers sometimes like to tie things up in knots for the sake of it; they make it deliberately complicated."

"That may be true, Special Agent Gibbs, but I assure you that is not my stance. My passion is justice not Law for the sake of it. I would remind you that Mr Yalland was not able to make any appeal against his sentence in large part due to my attention to detail."

Gibbs didn't know how to answer that, so kept silent. Carew continued,

"Sadly, however, I have realised in recent months that I no longer have the elasticity of mind which is needed to hold all the necessary details at once. This has sometimes led to me asking the same question more than once or requesting the attendance of more people to assure that a process was executed correctly."

"You said it," said Gibbs with a touch of bitterness.

"Indeed," said the Judge, "and it is a matter of deep regret to me. I have decided therefore, that whatever the findings of those in authority over me, I shall tender my resignation. I-I cannot risk justice being threatened by my inability to administer Law rigorously."

Gibbs wondered if it was because he was so bone-weary that he found these words oddly moving. He had not suspected that this rather desiccated man was capable of such passion. Before he could say anything, however, the Judge continued,

"Still, on the bright side, it means I shall be able to spend more time in this fine museum."

"That's good," said Gibbs dubiously.

"And perhaps you will visit sometimes, Special Agent Gibbs. I have found our discussions most stimulating."

As Gibbs trawled through his tired brain for a suitable answer, the Judge continued,

"Hark, someone is coming."

It turned out to be a party of school children. Gibbs mused over whether they had come by mistake or whether it was raining outside and they were seeking shelter. Carew was delighted, however, and Gibbs could hear him giving a brief account of the life of Thripp.

"And this is a statue of the great man," he said, "note his rather prominent forehead, held in those days to be a sign of superior brain function. Oh!" he paused, and Gibbs sensed something different in his voice. "I am very sorry, children, but we are going to have to cut your visit short. I have just realised that we are supposed to be closing early today ..."

Gibbs was on the move, he could hear Carew overriding the protests of the leader of the party as he shuffled them out. When he reached the room he saw the Judge running out.

"What is it?" demanded Gibbs.

"The books behind the statue had been displaced, Agent Gibbs, I found this package behind them. I am removing it from the building."

"Give it to me, Judge," said Gibbs, "I'll be quicker."

"No time," said the Judge already by the door. Gibbs cursed and ran after him but the Judge was quicker than expected. They reached the outer door together. The Judge handed Gibbs the package, "I expect your arm is stronger than mine," he said.

Gibbs threw the parcel into the air away from the disgruntled school party.

"I don't expect it is anything ..." said Carew.

The sound of the package exploding cut off the rest of his sentence.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I invented Manley Thripp so don't try googling him!


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs lay flat on his back and wondered how he had got there. For a moment or two he watched the clouds drifting overhead and admired their beauty; then his ears seemed to start working again and he heard children crying, police sirens blaring and alarms going off. Next his view of the clouds was obscured by the anxious face of McGee bending over him and he heard him say,

"Boss, are you all right? Boss, can you hear me?"

The pleasant dream-like state faded abruptly and Gibbs batted McGee's restraining hands away,

"Yeah, I can hear you. Let me up."

He struggled to his feet and looked around. Some of the party of school children were in tears while others were jumping up and down in excitement. NCIS and FBI agents had flooded the scene and were taking control and he could hear ambulance sirens in the distance.

"Where's Carew?" Gibbs demanded.

McGee pointed to a nearby bench where the Judge was sitting holding a bandage to his head and looking rather sorry for himself. Gibbs walked over as fast as his wobbly legs would let him.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he demanded, "Why didn't you give me the package straightaway?"

Carew glared up at him crossly and some of his usual spirit seemed to return,

"You're most welcome, Special Agent Gibbs."

The ghost of a half-smile appeared briefly on Gibbs' face and he nodded. A paramedic arrived at that moment and gently shoved Gibbs aside.

"McGee!" Gibbs bellowed, "Report!"

"Well, Boss," said McGee, "it appears that a bomb was planted in the museum." Gibbs stared at him coldly and McGee hurried on, "of course, you know that. It was quite a powerful explosive and the blast pushed everyone to the ground when it went off ... but you know that too."

"How did it get planted there? Who detonated it?" demanded Gibbs.

"Er ... don't know, Boss. Working on it. We didn't spot anyone running from the scene so I guess it was set off remotely. They might have hacked into the security cameras to see if the Judge was in the building. Um, I'm going to go back to the Navy Yard and start working on some theories."

"You do that, McGee. You do that". McGee scurried away and Gibbs turned back to the Judge. The paramedic spoke up,

"We're going to take this gentleman to hospital. He most likely has a concussion and possibly a broken arm. Sir, can you walk or do you want a stretcher?"

The Judge summoned his dignity,

"I am perfectly capable of walking, young man. Although I might want to lean on your arm."

Gibbs intervened, "Here, take mine," and he gently helped Carew to stand up. "I think it's time for you to go into a safe house until we find Yalland," he advised him.

For a moment, it looked as if the Judge was going to argue but then he simply said, "I believe you are right, Special Agent Gibbs. I shall miss our social intercourse, it has been most invigorating."

"I can't say I'll miss it," said Gibbs frankly, "but, thank you, Your Honour."

He helped the Judge climb into the ambulance and waited till he was settled. The Judge rewarded him with one of his special smiles, but this time Gibbs didn't think it was quite so evil. As the ambulance drove away, the Judge realised that Gibbs had called him, 'Your Honour' for the first time. He rather thought that might be the nearest to an apology he would get from him.

NCISNCIS

McGee had made good progress by the time Gibbs got back to the squad room.

"Boss," he said, jumping up as soon as Gibbs came out of the elevator, "I was right, someone hacked into the security camera – I'm guessing it was to check that the Judge was there."

"How do you know, Tim?"

"Uh, Boss, do you really want me to explain how I know? I mean, I can, but you don't usually want to know how I do things."

"OK, what else have you found out?"

"We're pretty sure the device wasn't planted overnight. The best bet is that it's been there for days, just waiting for the Judge to turn up."

"Why wasn't it found before?" asked Gibbs.

"It seems we assumed we only needed to keep a look out from last night," said the Director arriving to join in, "and didn't do a thorough search," he saw Gibbs open his mouth to deliver some sort of rebuke, "rest assured, that will be a learning point for the future."

Gibbs nodded, not exactly satisfied but not wanting to waste time re-hashing mistakes.

McGee continued, "If the device had been there for several days, it would make sense that Yalland had to tap into the cameras to see when to detonate it."

Ducky arrived at that moment and overheard Tim,

"Do you mean to see, Timothy, that our fugitive detonated the explosive knowing that a party of children had just entered the building?"

"Looks like it, Ducky."

"Dear me, then Mr Yalland is indeed a cold and vindictive ba ... individual," said Ducky in shock.

"How was the bomb set off?" asked Gibbs.

"Quite easily, Boss," said Tim, "I think he'd have been able to set it off from a Smartphone. Would have been quite easy to do."

"Wait, if he did it from his phone, could you trace the signal?"

"I can try," said McGee, dubiously.

"Do you know how many phone calls would have been made in Washington at that time?" said the Director in support, "the chances of isolating one are tiny. The call would only need to be a few seconds."

"And he probably would have dumped the phone immediately," said McGee.

"Try anyway," ordered Gibbs, "and what about hacking into the security cameras, can you trace anything back from that?"

"It’s possible," said McGee, "I'll get on that."

"Yalland's file doesn't suggest he has any expertise in explosives," observed Gibbs, "check into whether he has any known associates with a history of bomb-making; whether there are any known bombers in town at the moment ..."

"Er, Boss," said McGee, "I've got quite a lot to do at the moment. What do you want me to do first?"

"Stick to the tech stuff. I'll get Fornell to do the rest," said Gibbs.

"And where is Judge Carew?" asked Ducky.

"Hospital," said Gibbs, "and then a safe house."

"So we won't have the pleasure of his company in the squad room?" said Ducky with satisfaction. "Good. I found him rather verbose."

NCISNCIS

Tony had moved into John's hut and was relieved to find that it had more home comforts that Gibbs' Spartan log cabin. The hut gave Tony some privacy although, on the whole, he and John got on well enough. Tony tried to offer John some rent but John had another suggestion.

"Let me paint your portrait."

"What? I thought you weren't painting them anymore?"

"I don't very often but I like to keep my hand in. If an interesting subject comes along."

"And I'm an  _interesting subject_ , am I?" said Tony.

"Sure."

"I've always thought I had a bit of a bland face. Someone once told me it needed more character."

"You've got good bone structure ... and the eyes are definitely not empty, it's got enough character for me," said John.

"Perhaps you could tone the nose down a bit," joked Tony, "and you'll do it from my good side?"

"No promises," said John firmly, "so, you'll do it?"

"Isn't this the wrong way round?" said Tony, "aren't the sitters meant to pay the artist. Not the other way round?"

"Not always," said John, serenely, "there are some rather odd stories about painters and their 'muses'".

"Am I your muse?" asked Tony with a touch of anxiety.

"No," said John reassuringly, "just a not so bland face."

So Tony agreed and spent a couple of hours a day, sitting for John. They learned more about each other in the process and Tony told John some of his, less secret, hair-raising escapades as a cop and as a federal agent. One day he told him the story of going undercover in a video store.

"That rings a bell," said John thoughtfully, "I'm sure I've heard something similar recently," he paused to try and remember where he had heard the story but Millie dropped in at that moment,

"Hey, guys," she said, "just had a call, Kit and Andy are visiting the day after tomorrow."

"Kit and Andy?" asked Tony.

"Kit is my son and Andy – short for Andrea – is his wife. They live in Raleigh but they're coming for a visit with Pippa and Joe. My grandchildren," she supplied before Tony could ask. "Kit wants to know if you'd go fishing with him when he comes. I've promised that if he catches some sea trout I'll cook you something special."

John beamed, "I'd love to. And Tony, you should come too, you'll enjoy it."

"I've never really been into fishing," objected Tony.

"A life without fishing is an empty one," declared John, "you're coming."

Tony gave in; it was a novel experience for him to be bullied in such a friendly way. Millie went away and John, forgetting about the video store, told Tony a bit about Millie's family,

"Kit and Millie have always been close, especially after Tom, Millie's husband died. They've got a real special bond," and John sighed.

Tony sensed this was a difficult subject but didn't want to ignore it,

"You said you don't get on with your own son?" he asked.

"Douglas. Well, I'd like to think that he doesn't get on with me, rather than the other way round but I hurt him a lot. Walking out on the painting turned his life upside-down when the money dried up. Then my marriage broke down. I didn't behave well, Tony, and looking back, I should have handled it better. I've tried to build bridges with Doug but it's difficult. He's done well for himself, got a good job but he always wants more. He's never content and he drinks too much when he feels the world is against him."

"You have to let go of things from the past," observed Tony, "hell, I haven't got the ideal father but I try to see the best in him, to understand why he is like he is. And sometimes it works; not always, but sometimes."

"Doug hasn't reached that stage yet," said John, "he turns up now and then. Always a bit suspicious that I've got some more money from somewhere, that I'm holding out on him. He can't understand how I can be content just pottering around here." He turned back to his paints, "So," he said slyly, "have you reached the stage of being able to let go of what your Boss did to you?"

Tony's face hardened, "I don't think it's long enough ago yet."

NCISNCIS

Kit duly arrived with his family in train and took John and a slightly uncertain Tony off fishing for the day. Millie supplied a wonderful picnic for them which went a long way to resolving Tony's misgivings. Somewhat to his surprise, Tony enjoyed the day. It turned out that Kit had also been to Ohio State where he had done a degree in environmental sciences and spent as much time as possible following college football and basketball.

"Tony DiNozzo," he had gasped when introduced, " _the_  Tony DiNozzo? Basketball captain?"

John looked a little puzzled at Kit's enthusiasm but Tony just nodded; it was a long time since he'd received such a welcome. It was just as well that John was content just to listen, as Kit and Tony spent the next several hours discussing twenty years of college sports in excruciating detail.

The day of their fishing trip happened to be the day on which the bomb exploded in the Manley Thripp museum. The story was covered in the TV and radio news but the fishermen hadn't taken a radio with them on their expedition and, in any case, found their own stories far too interesting to need a distraction.

Happily, enough sea trout were caught to give Millie the ingredients for her special pan-fried fish dish. Andy and her children were playing ball in the garden when they got back and Tony and John joined them while Millie started cooking. Pippa, at two, was not quite old enough to appreciate the honour of being introduced to a sporting legend but Joe, at six, was well on his way to being a fanatic. He gazed at Tony with saucer-like eyes and followed him everywhere.

Kit led Tony to the hoop on the side of the house which had been set up when he was a youngster. He, Tony and Joe started shooting hoops. Tony and Kit soon found they hadn't lost their old skills but Joe got frustrated that he kept missing.

"It's too high," he complained.

Tony laughed and swung him up on to his shoulders, "There you are, how about you and me give your daddy a game?"

Joe nodded with delight and so the 'game' progressed. Andy and Millie heard the excitement and came out to see what was going on. Andy went and got her camera and started taking photos of her son proudly being able to get the ball through the hoop at last.

Finally, Millie called them to the dinner table; food and conversation occupied them to the early hours.

NCISNCIS

Back in Washington, McGee's technical wizardry and Gibbs' gut had failed to find any concrete leads to Yalland. The squad room felt oddly empty with the Judge tucked up in a safe house but the removal of that source of tension hadn't helped Gibbs mind come up with any ideas.

They had found a discarded cell a couple of blocks away from the museum and determined that it had been used to set off the bomb. There were no finger prints but Abby, the queen of DNA testing, was able to get a sample off it which showed that it belonged to Yalland. Unfortunately it turned out that the phone had been stolen a few days before: the shop's security footage was grainy and unclear but it looked as if Yalland had been the thief. All this proved that Yalland had been in Washington and, since he had been unsuccessful so far, was probably still there, hoping to pick up clues on where Tony and the Judge might be. McGee hoped that it wasn't wishful thinking that Yalland hadn't succeeded in finding Tony but he kept those thoughts to himself.

The tension in the squad room was terrible. Gibbs, despite eating when told to, looked as if he had dropped several pounds since Tony had disappeared, he was pale and weary and even more short tempered than usual. McGee couldn't see a way out of the hell they were all living in.

A couple of days after the bombing, McGee arrived early in the squad room. Unsurprisingly, Gibbs was already there with two empty coffee cups in the trash and a full one on his desk.

"McGee," he said when Tim arrived.

"Boss?"

"This isn't working. We're going to have to get Yalland to come to us."

"We're going to set the Judge up again?" said McGee doubtfully.

"No, Tony."

"But we don't know where Tony is. Do we?" said McGee, wondering for a crazy moment if Gibbs had known all along where Tony was. An unaccustomed rage simmered in his chest.

"No, McGee, we don't," said Gibbs, "but Yalland doesn't know that."

"Boss?"

"We're going to make Yalland think we've got Tony stashed away somewhere. Lure him out."

"How are we going to make him think that?"

"You and Abby are going to work out how to let him hack into NCIS and find Tony."

"But Tony isn't there," said McGee.

"I know, McGee, you're going to entice him into a fake NCIS database thingumabob and drop some breadcrumbs."

"You want us to set up a parallel NCIS database? Do you know how difficult that is?"

"Nope. Don't want to either. I trust you and Abby. Can you do it?"

The light of battle gleamed in Tim's eyes,

"It'll be a pleasure, Boss," he rubbed his hands together, looking happier than he had for days, "I'll have to clone some of the real servers, separate out the sensitive data sets and work out how to make a defective firewall ..."

"McGee," said Gibbs.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Less talk, more action."

"On it, Boss, faking away."

 


	7. Chapter 7

Kit and Andy went back to Raleigh taking a reluctant Joe with them: whenever he saw Tony he wanted to ride on his shoulders and he would have been happy to shoot hoops all day. Only the promise that he would see Tony again got Joe into the car. Tony wondered what would happen when he went back to Washington but decided that he would do his best to keep Kit and Andy's promise. He remembered all too well what it was like to be fobbed off with a parent's easy promise and he didn't want Joe to experience that because of him.

John and Tony's routine continued once the visitors had left. Tony would go for a run in the morning; he and John would then go to Millie's for breakfast and then resume work on the portrait. After lunch, Tony would go for a walk along the coast. He had borrowed a book on birds from John and was doing his best to pick out the species he saw: he didn't think he was being very successful but it gave him an excuse to sit still and gaze out across the ocean. As he watched the waves lap the shore, he tried to imagine them washing away anger and hurt. Evenings were usually spent with Millie and John although sometimes Tony left them alone. He wasn't sure exactly what their relationship was but he didn't want to play gooseberry.

A couple of days after Millie's visitors left, John had one of his own. John was laughing at some remark of Tony's when there was a quick knock at the door and a youngish man walked in. He was a bit younger than Tony, fair haired and with brown eyes so familiar that Tony had little doubt that this was Douglas Sutherland. The way that John's face lit up confirmed his guess.

"Hey, Dad," said the new arrival, "oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I didn't know you were working."

John put down his brushes and hugged his son,

"No worries. I was about to make us some coffee. How long are you staying?"

"Just passing through. I've got some business in Raleigh so I thought I'd drop in."

"Sit down," said John, "I'll just make the drinks."

Left alone, Doug gave Tony a charming smile,

"Hi, I'm Douglas Sutherland, I'm very pleased to meet you."

Tony smiled back and shook the offered hand,

"Nice to meet you. I'm Tony DiNozzo."

Doug frowned in concentration, "I'm sure I know that name from somewhere. Hey, are you related to Anthony DiNozzo of New York? I hear he's putting together a plan for a new marina near where I live."

"He's my father," said Tony, "but I don't get involved with his business deals, I'm afraid, so I don't know anything about a marina."

"So, Dad's painting your portrait, is he? I'm very pleased."

"He's a good painter," said Tony, a little surprised at Doug's enthusiasm.

John came back with the drinks and then realised he'd left the cream in the kitchen. Tony jumped up to go and get it. As he went, he heard Doug say in a low voice.

"Dad, I'm glad to see you're getting back into the business."

"What?" said John.

"Painting Tony's portrait. That's a good move. His father is big in New York society, you know. If he likes the picture it could lead to lots more commissions."

"Tony's not paying for the picture, Doug. I'm painting it because I want to."

Doug's voice rose, "Don't be stupid, Dad, you know how much you could charge. Look, let me talk to Mr DiNozzo Senior, I could negotiate a good price."

Tony came back into the room,

"Doug, I'm sorry to disappoint you but it's unlikely my Dad would want a painting of me hanging on his wall. And even less likely that he'd have any money to pay for one."

"Doug," said John soothingly, "I'm just painting a picture of a friend. There was never any question of payment."

" _Friend_?” demanded Doug, "and how long have you known this  _friend?_ "

"A couple of weeks," said his father.

"He's done well, hasn't he?" said Doug bitterly, "managing to persuade you to paint him already. He probably worked out just the right way to get round you."

Tony swallowed his anger at this injustice,

"I didn't know anything about your father before I came here."

"And it was  _me_  who asked Tony to sit for me. He didn't ask to be painted," insisted John.

"No, I'm sure he'd be far too clever to do that," said Doug.

"Douglas," said John firmly, "I just happened to bump into Tony when he took a room at Millie's. It was just coincidence."

Doug seemed to accept this,

"I'm sorry, Tony," he said, "I just worry about people taking advantage of my father. He was a fine portrait artist you know, until he had his breakdown."

"I didn't have a breakdown," said John wearily.

"Well, what else do you call it when you just throw in a high paid job and abandon your family," asked Doug hotly. John stared at him and Doug tried once again for politeness,

"Sorry again, Tony. You'll see this is an old argument. So, are you still staying at Millie's?"

Tony hesitated but said, "No, your father was kind enough to let me stay in the hut."

"Oohhh," said Doug, "you've really managed to worm yourself in, haven't you. All very cosy, I'm sure."

"Douglas," said John in a warning voice but Doug swept on,

"It all makes sense now. Of course my father would like to paint your picture. Just gave him an excuse to look at you for hours. I'm guessing you don't spend all that much time in the hut – it's much nicer up here."

Tony was aghast and part of him was tempted to punch Doug in the mouth which was spewing out such vile nonsense. The other part of him, however, saw the sadness and resignation in John's face and he knew that he was used to this sort of behaviour and that it wouldn't help for Tony to deck his son.

John stood up,

"Douglas, you know you are always welcome here but not if you're going to be rude to my guests. I think you should go now. Come back when you've calmed down a bit. Go on."

Doug hesitated but then spun round and went out, slamming the door behind him. John sat down again wearily,

"I'm sorry about that, Tony. He's a good boy really but he still can't understand what happened. Sometimes he thinks I must have had a breakdown to have given everything up. Sometimes he thinks I must be gay otherwise I would never have left his mom. And today, he went for both. I'm sorry. I'm embarrassed for him."

"No need," said Tony, "sons and fathers – not always easy. Believe me, I know."

John buried his face in his hands for a moment. Tony went on, hesitantly, "You do know that I didn't know anything about you before I came, don't you?"

John managed a shaky laugh at that, "Tony, you looked so shocked when I suggested painting you, I can't believe you came here with that as a cunning plan. And you're not exactly the most relaxed sitter I've ever had either."

Tony nodded in relief. It had been a surprise to him that he wasn't comfortable sitting for John. He knew he had a touch of vanity: his taste for fine clothes and the amount he spent on his grooming proved that. And he knew that he was good looking but somehow, having John's perceptive gaze directed at him for hours at a time was unnerving. He suspected it was a cliché but it did seem sometimes that the artist could see under his skin and into his soul and that was unsettling for someone who hid so much of his true self.

They broke for lunch soon after that and then Tony went for one of his long walks. He was glad that he would not be sitting for John the next day: John had announced that he needed to go into the nearest town to visit his bank and go to the dentist and Tony had volunteered to drive him. Tony knew that Doug had been completely wrong but, for a little while at least, he would be happier not to be painted.

NCISNCIS

McGee and Abby worked on the Yalland trap for some days. It had been agreed that they would suggest that Tony was holed up in a safe house to the north of Washington and would be moved to another soon. They hoped this would push Yalland into making a move and NCIS and the FBI would be ready to capture him.

It was a very difficult task: they knew that Yalland had some IT skills but they didn't know exactly how clever he was. McGee had examined his prison laptop and thought he was quite sophisticated so tried to work out how to create a hole in the parallel NCIS site which Yalland would be able to get through without it being too easy for him. McGee and Abby had fierce arguments about how best to lay Gibbs' breadcrumbs but finally came up with a solution they both agreed on.

Once he had started work on the alternative site, McGee soon suspected that someone had been trying to hack in for days. It might not be Yalland, of course, as NCIS was often the target of hackers but there was a pattern to the activity and McGee began to be more hopeful that he would be able to entice the fugitive in.

The Director had been dubious about Gibbs' plan at first. He was not enamoured of the idea of giving access to even a make believe NCIS but he had confidence in McGee and Abby and, in truth, could not see another way forward. Unable to help with the trap, Gibbs had been limited to supplying endless CafPows and nutter butters in between the 'old fashioned police methods' of poring over traffic cameras in the hope of spotting a beige sedan leaving Washington or, better still, returning. He also checked the BOLOs and for activity on Tony's bank accounts but both were stubbornly silent.

Gibbs felt a bit better for believing they had a plan but he knew it was a long shot. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that if they couldn't find Tony, Yalland wouldn't be able to either but he couldn't quite rid himself of the knowledge that Yalland might have a head start. He kept on thinking of the catalogue of facts Yalland had gathered about Tony's routines and tastes, of the meticulous and coldblooded planning that had gone into the attack on the museum and he couldn't help but fear for Tony. He wished he had not let Tony turn him out of his apartment on that last night and part of him hoped desperately that his last memory of Tony would not be of the angry disappointment in his eyes as he ducked away from his touch. He took another gulp of his bitter, cold coffee and felt it churn in his stomach.

NCISNCIS

The day came when it was hoped to spring the trap. Gibbs had resolutely sent everyone home at 5pm the night before with strict orders to eat properly and go to bed early. He wanted everyone at their best and sharpest for the next day.

Ducky had insisted on taking him out for dinner and plying him with simple food which would sit easily in his suffering stomach. Ducky was beginning to fear that Gibbs was heading for a stomach ulcer but hadn't yet quite summoned the courage to ban coffee. As they finished their meal, Ducky ordered Gibbs a brandy,

"Now, Jethro, I know it's not your usual drink of choice, but drink this at your doctor's request. It will help you sleep and our boy needs you in top form tomorrow."

Gibbs smiled and took an obedient sip.

"You know what frightens me, Duck?"

"I would have thought very little, my friend."

"What happens if our plan works tomorrow and we catch Yalland?"

"Then that will be a very good thing. What is your concern?"

"That we still don't know where Tony is. What if he's not coming back?"

"Surely your gut would have told you if he were dead?"

"The way my gut is churning at the moment, I can't tell. But, no, most of the time I don't think he's dead, but what if he wants to stay hidden? What if he doesn't want to come back?"

"He'll come back, Jethro. He'll come back. That young man thinks the world of you. He's angry at the moment, but he'll come back, just you see."

"I'm not so sure, Ducky. I'm not so sure."

Ducky wasn't often lost for words but he didn't know what more to say that could reassure Gibbs so he settled for patting him on the arm and driving him home with strict instructions to do as he had ordered his team.

"Go to bed, Jethro ... and eat a proper breakfast tomorrow."

Mid-morning the next day, the team were assembled in the squad room going over final plans. The FBI and other NCIS agents were already staking out the 'safe house'. Gibbs and McGee would drive there around noon and collect 'Tony' to move to another house, the location of which had not been leaked.

"I'm pretty sure someone's hacked into the schedule, Boss," said McGee.

"Yalland?" asked Gibbs.

"Don't know," admitted McGee.

"But we think it's the same person who's been snooping round for a while," said Abby earnestly, "and the timing fits with when Yalland escaped from prison."

"And yesterday," added McGee, "we finally traced some attempted hacking activity back to the IP address of the laptop that Yalland had in prison, so we're sure he's been trying something."

"Good," said Gibbs, thinking this sounded positive, "Good work, both of you. You've done well."

"Right," he continued, "Abby, you watch the dummy site. See if you can spot any more activity. Let us know if anything happens."

"I will," said Abby seriously, "Gibbs, we gotta catch Yalland. Tony's not going to be safe until we do."

"We will," said Gibbs calmly.

"And you take care, both of you," she said tremulously, "it's bad enough Tony isn't here. I can't lose you as well," and she ran forward and pulled both Tim and Gibbs into an Abby hug.

"We'll be careful," promised Tim as he extracted himself. He patted his pockets to make sure he had everything and then turned back to his desk for a final check.

"Coming, McGee?" said Gibbs impatiently as he strode towards the elevator.

"Coming, Boss." McGee was about to step away from his computer when there was a series of loud beeps. "What?!" he exclaimed, and then shouted, "Boss, wait up!"

"What is it, McGee?" demanded Gibbs coming back.

"There's just been some activity on Tony's bank account. He paid for some gas on his card in Belbrough in North Carolina."

There was another beep from McGee's computer, he tapped on some keys,

"And the BOLOs have come up with something. Three sightings on the road into Belbrough and one on the way out. Boss, he's on the move."

"Do we know where he is now?" asked Gibbs, "North Carolina's a big place."

The computer beeped again. "What is it this time?" asked Gibbs.

McGee looked, "I set the system to do searches in case Tony's name appeared on the internet anywhere. It was a bit of a long shot but ..."

"But?" said Gibbs impatiently.

"But it just found something, Look," and he brought up a photo of Tony with Joe on his shoulders. The caption beneath read, 'Tony DiNozzo, former basketball captain, passing on his skills to a new generation. Posted by Kit Lacey of Raleigh, North Carolina, picture taken by his wife while visiting his mother's house in Milsom Bay, North Carolina'.

"Boss, that's the OSU Alumni site."

"Yay," squealed Abby happily, "we've found him!"

"Boss," said McGee anxiously, "if we ..."

"I know," said Gibbs grimly, "if we found him then Yalland can too. I'm guessing he could have set up the same search you did?"

"Easily," admitted McGee, "even you could do it, Boss. No need for anything sophisticated."

"Damn," said Gibbs.

"What do we do, Boss?" asked Tim.

"Go and find him," said Abby.

"It's not that simple, Abs," said Gibbs, "what if Yalland is at the safe house and not going after Tony in Milsom Bay? It's in completely the opposite direction!"

"Oh, I forgot about that," said Abby.

Gibbs thought quickly, "OK. We stick to the plan. McGee, you go to the safe house, tell Fornell. Yalland might have taken the bait and make his move there."

"And what are you going to do, Boss?" asked Tim.

"I'll go to Milsom Bay, find Tony first and warn him. You come as soon as you know what's happening at the safe house. Abby, you keep an eye on Tim's computer and let me know if there are any other sightings of Tony."

"Yes, yes, yes," said Abby. She sat down at McGee's desk as the others left, "Oh, Tony," she thought, "why couldn't you have waited another day before popping up?" She smiled at the photo and stroked his face with her finger.

NCISNCIS

John had met up with friends in Belbrough so Tony came back to John's place alone. He went into the hut and froze when he saw someone waiting for him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Doug Sutherland was sitting on the couch with a half empty bottle of Scotch in front of him. Tony knew that the bottle had been nearly full the day before so guessed that Doug had drunk the rest. He wondered if Doug was a happy or a miserable drunk and got an answer soon,

"Hey, look who it is! Mr 'I'm such a nice guy, I'd be a much better son than your insensitive boar of a ...'", Doug trailed to a halt as he realised his sentence had become a bit too convoluted. He took another gulp of whisky and continued, "So where've you been, Mr DiNozzo? Working out how to con money out of Dad. Like father, like son?"

"I took your Dad into Belbrough. He had to go to the dentist," said Tony calmly, trying to keep his temper.

"That's very  _dutiful_  of you," slurred Doug, "but as Dad is letting you live here for nothing, it's the least you can do."

"Yes, it is," said Tony reasonably, "I'm going to make myself some coffee. Do you want some?"

" _Coffee_? Oooh, no, I think I'll stick to this. It's  _very_  good."

"You'll have a hangover in the morning," warned Tony.

"What do you care?" demanded Doug.

"I don't especially," said Tony honestly, "but I think your Dad will."

Doug laughed, a rather unpleasant, bitter laugh, "Oh, yes, Daddy cares a lot  _now_. He didn't care all those years ago when he decided he needed to  _find_  himself: even if it meant losing everyone else. Did he tell you about that, Tony?"

"He's told me some. He regrets what happened."

"Oh, he  _regrets_  it does he? Did he tell you how everything changed; all the money went? I had to go to another college because we couldn't afford the one I wanted to go to. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you that my mom had to get a job? That we had to leave our nice house and  _rent_  somewhere? He  _ruined_  our lives just so that he could come and be a beach bum and make people think he's this wise, perfect person. Well, newsflash – he's not. He's a selfish bastard!"

"I know he's not perfect," said Tony, "and he knows it too."

"Our life was  _perfect_ ," said Doug, "we were all happy together, it was perfect and then ... then, he left. And it was all gone, nothing was ever the same again. It was never  _safe_  again."

Tony began to glimpse what was behind all this,

"It wasn't the money, was it? It's not the money that counts?"

"If he'd loved us, if he'd loved _me_ , he'd have stayed. Isn't that what you're supposed to do for people you love? Isn't that what  _fathers_  are meant to do for their sons?"

"I don't know, Doug. I don't think it's what my Dad would do for me."

Doug looked up at that and seemed to recognise some kinship with Tony; two sons disappointed in their fathers. He raised his glass in a salute, "To sons who deserve better fathers!"

Tony relaxed a little, "Here, let me make you that coffee. You really should stop drinking now, you know."

Doug stood up angrily, "Don't tell me what to do. You're not in charge here." He swung his arms in an extravagant gesture and the whisky bottle he held in one hand smashed against the wall behind him. He was left holding the jagged neck; he looked at it thoughtfully, "that would do a lot of damage, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," said Tony warily, "so you'd better be careful."

Doug waved the broken glass, "I wonder if  _Dad_  would still want to paint your pretty face if it was all cut up?" He swept it vaguely in Tony's direction, "or perhaps it's a  _sign_ , perhaps I should use it on me. Then I'd find out if Dad cared or not," he looked at the bottle and stretched his arm, "no, I think I'd rather put it in  _your_  face or  _your_  arm." He lunged forward and Tony stepped back easily.

Tony had no real doubt that he could take Doug down but the broken bottle was dangerous and Doug unpredictable, still wavering between self-harm and attacking Tony.

"You have to let it go, Doug," said Tony.

Doug looked at the broken bottle, "I don't want to let it go, I like it. It's got  _possibilities."_

"Not the bottle – although that would be a good idea. You've got to let go of the past, Doug, this isn't doing you any good."

"Easy to say," said Doug sulkily.

Tony wondered if the sedative effect of the alcohol was beginning to kick in, "You're right, it's easy to say but I still reckon it's true."

"Doesn't sound like you've forgiven  _your_  Dad," pointed out Doug.

"No, but I'm trying. And your Dad is trying too."

"So _it's do as I say, not as I do_?" sneered Doug.

"I'm not saying it's easy, but unless you sort yourself out you're in a world of pain, Doug."

"I just want it to be  _all right_ ," wailed Doug, "why does it have to be so hard?"

"I don't know, Doug, I don't know."

Doug slumped back on to the couch and cradled the bottle to his chest as he sobbed lethargically. Tony bent over Doug extracted the broken glass from his hand, "I'll go make you that coffee now," he said.

"I like it with cream," said Doug unexpectedly.

"You'll have it black and strong," said Tony firmly.

Just as Tony stood back up, he heard someone else coming through the door,

"Tony!" said John in an agitated voice, "I just read the paper, you've got to see this ... what's going on?" he stopped as he saw his weeping son.

"Doug's a bit ..., well, he's a bit emotional at the moment," said Tony. He looked at the broken bottle in his hand, "I'll just get rid of this."

John went and sat next to his son and put his arm round his shoulders,

"What's wrong, Son?" he asked, "talk to me."

"I'm sorry, Dad," said Doug in a wobbly voice, "I'm sorry."

"What for, Doug?"

"For not being, be-being the sort of son you want."

"Don't say that. You're the only son I've ever wanted."

"Then why did you leave?" stuttered Doug.

Tony decided to give them some privacy.

"Hey, look. I'm going to leave you two to it. I'll go for a walk on the beach. Catch you later."

Doug and John barely noticed him leave as they began a long overdue conversation.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs had been driving for about thirty minutes when his cell rang. Unusually, he had remembered to set it on the voice activated hand-free mode so was able to answer it without taking his hands off the wheel.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," came Abby's excited voice.

"Abs?"

"I thought I'd track you; keep an eye on the traffic and work out the best route for you."

"Good thinking, Abs. Any more beeps on McGee's searches?"

"No, nothing. I've tried calling Kit Lacy but he's not picking up."

"Have you tried his mom?"

"Yes, but she's not picking up either. Where are you going to go, Gibbs? Belbrough or Milsom Bay?"

"When do I have to decide, Abs?"

"Not till you're quite close. Then if you decide to go to Milsom Bay you can cut off about fifteen minutes by turning off the main road."

"OK, Abs, keep an eye out and let me know if anything changes. Am I OK to stay on this road for now?"

"Yes, carry on as if you're going to Norfolk and then veer off. I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Abs," Gibbs closed the connection and went back to concentrating on his driving.

Another hour passed with no communication from Abby except the occasional call to confirm that he was still on the best route. Gibbs was beginning to regret not having brought coffee with him when the cell went again. It was McGee.

"Good news, Boss. It worked!"

"What happened, Tim?"

"We were moving fake Tony when the car was ambushed. It was just where you'd thought it might happen. Two cars tried to force ours off the road. The FBI van and other cars raced up and shoved into them."

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief, "Good work, Tim. So it's all over. You've got Yalland?"

"Not quite, Boss."

"What you mean, not quite?"

"Yalland and his men managed to get out of the cars and they ran to this rundown warehouse building. They're holed up in there."

"Damn," said Gibbs, "what's happening now?"

"FBI and NCIS have got the place surrounded. They can't get out. They'll have to give up in the end."

"You're sure Yalland is there?" said Gibbs.

"Has to be, Boss. Nobody got away, we had eyes on them all the time."

"You still there, McGee?"

"Yes, Boss. You want me to come and join you?"

"No," decided Gibbs, "stay there. Keep me posted when it's over."

"OK, say Hi to Tony for me."

"Will do," said Gibbs.

Feeling calmer, Gibbs eased off the gas a little but kept driving. He still wanted to find Tony but was now beginning to wonder what sort of reception he would get and what he would say to him. He had been driving for about four hours in all when the need for caffeine became too strong and when he saw a café on the roadside, he pulled in. He had just taken a much needed gulp of the coffee when his cell went,

"McGee, what is it?"

"Er, Boss," came Tim's hesitant voice. Gibbs' gut churned,

"What is it?"

"The siege is over."

"And?"

"And Yalland wasn't there."

"He got away?"

"No. He was never there!"

"What?! I thought you said you saw him."

"I said no-one had got away. And they didn't. We just assumed that Yalland was there."

"Go on," said Gibbs grimly.

"When the attackers surrendered it turned out they'd been set up by Yalland."

"How?"

"Not sure. It seems that Yalland sold them information saying a load of confiscated cash was being moved undercover from one federal building to another."

"So he made  _money_  out of this?"

"Yes."

"Do they know where he is?" asked Gibbs.

"’Fraid not, Boss. Boss?"

"Yes?"

"You realise that Yalland probably picked up Tony's picture on the OSU site?"

"Yes, McGee, I do realise that!"

By this time, Gibbs was already back at his car, cursing that he had stopped at all. "McGee, get down here as quick as possible. I'm going to make for Milsom Bay; that's where the photo was taken, seems most likely someone there will know about Tony."

"Yes, Boss. I'll tell Abby to work out that route for you."

NCISNCIS

Some days things just work out and it seemed, after all, that this was one of those days. Unknowingly, Gibbs followed the same route into Milsom Bay as Tony had nearly two weeks before and so arrived at Millie's café which was one of the first houses on the Bay. Gibbs screeched to a halt and ran into the café where Millie was just opening up after an afternoon shopping in Belbrough.

"Good afternoon," she said, "may I help you?"

Gibbs pulled his badge out, "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. I'm looking for Tony DiNozzo."

He was surprised to get a disapproving look, "Oh, you're Special Agent Gibbs. I've heard about you."

Gibbs decided not to waste time with this, "It's very important that I find him. Do you know where he is?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you, Agent Gibbs. I don't think he wants to see you."

"Look, I know he's mad at me but this isn't about that. He might be in danger. I need to find him."

"In danger? Here?" said Millie sceptically.

Gibbs kept his temper, somehow realising that shouting at this woman wouldn't get results.

“A criminal who Tony helped put in prison escaped a few days ago. We have reason to believe he's after Tony. I need to find him."

Millie frowned as she considered her reply, "He's not here. He moved out a few days ago and he's been staying with John Sutherland, about half a mile down the road."

"Thank you," said Gibbs, making for the door.

"But I don't think he'll be there at this time of day," said Millie having decided to be completely helpful, "he usually goes for a walk in the late afternoon. Along the beach. He likes to sit on Leeley's Stretch and watch the light change."

Gibbs ran back to the car, calling Abby as he went.

"Abs, Leeley's Stretch. Where is it?"

"Have you found him yet, Gibbs?" came her reply.

"I will do if you tell me where Leeley's stretch is, Abby." He could hear her fingers tapping the keys on her computer.

"It's about two miles straight down the road from where you are, Gibbs. There's a clump of cabbage palms there, that should help you spot it."

Gibbs clicked his phone shut and started the car. He drove for the two miles indicated by Abby and then saw the palms she'd predicted. He got out of the car and headed across the sand to the shore. He sighed with relief as he saw the familiar figure of Tony sitting against some boulders, looking out to sea.

Tony heard the shifting of sand and saw someone walking towards him. He recognised Gibbs and stiffened for a moment but waited for Gibbs to draw near. When Gibbs saw Tony, he experienced a sudden surge of joy that he was safe. The next moment he was gripped by an irrational wave of anger when he saw that Tony looked well, happy and relaxed having apparently had a wonderful vacation while his team had been running themselves into the ground trying to find him. He resisted the impulse to deliver a head slap.

Tony, characteristically, was the first to speak,

"Jeez, Gibbs, what happened?"

"What you mean?"

"You look awful."

And indeed, the long days of Tony's absence had wrought a change in Gibbs: he had lost weight, his eyes were bloodshot through lack of sleep, his normally crisply ironed clothes were crumpled, he had cut himself shaving that morning and his hair was dull and spiky.

Once again, Gibbs curbed the impulse to hit Tony,

"Well, you've been missing for nearly two weeks, Bozo. What do you think happened?"

"Oh," said Tony, he turned his gaze away from Gibbs and returned to looking out to sea, "I like it here. It's peaceful."

Gibbs dropped down to sit next to him, suddenly the days without sleeping were catching up on him but he was amazed how much better he felt just for having Tony next to him.

"I've got a book on birds," said Tony conversationally, "I'm trying to learn how to pick them out."

"How are you getting on?" asked Gibbs, deciding to let Tony lead the conversation.

"Not too good," admitted Tony, "they all look like white birds to me with black bits on them but I think I know the difference between a Little Gull and a Black Headed Gull now. Although it might just have been a  _baby_  Black Headed Gull that I saw."

Gibbs laughed and began to relax a bit more.

"How'd you find me?" asked Tony, still staring out to sea and avoiding Gibbs' eyes.

"Your photo popped up on the OSU site, with a kid on your shoulders, playing ball," said Gibbs, deciding not to mention BOLOs and tracking of bank accounts for the moment.

"Senior always did say nothing good would come out of playing sport," said Tony reflectively.

They sat in silence for a few more moments; Gibbs hoped it was a companionable silence but he wasn't sure.

"Tony ...," he began.

"Gibbs! Look out!" shouted Tony, but it was too late. A branch wielded by the person who had crept up unseen behind them, smashed on to Gibbs' head sending him tumbling unconscious to the ground. Tony leapt to his feet and twisted round, ready to defend himself and Gibbs.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Tony looked at Gibbs' attacker and then down at the crumpled form on the ground,

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I was ... wait, did you just say 'Gibbs'?"

"Yes!" said Tony, dropping down to his knees to get a better look at Gibbs' injury.

"Your Boss?"

"Yes, who did you think it was?" demanded Tony.

"Jamie Yalland," said a shaken John, throwing aside the branch he had used to hit Gibbs.

"Who?"

"Jamie Yalland. I read an old newspaper when I was in the dentist's waiting room. It had a big article about this guy escaping from prison, said he'd been caught after a federal agent went undercover in a video store. Do you remember when you told me that story a while ago, I said it sounded familiar? I must have read a shorter version before but it was when I read the big article that I joined the dots. It said it was thought that he'd been behind a bomb plot in Washington – he was after the judge in the case. So I got back as quickly as I could to tell you, but then ..."

"But then you saw Doug and got distracted," finished Tony.

"After a while, Doug fell asleep and I remembered what I had to tell you. So I left him sleeping it off and came out to find you. And then I saw you with a stranger and ..."

"And you decided it was Yalland."

"I thought you were in trouble so I crept up behind you."

"That's pretty impressive. Sneaking up on two federal agents, especially one like Gibbs. All that bird watching you do must be good for moving quietly."

"I can't believe I hit him," said John, beginning to tremble in reaction to what he'd done.

"You did real well for a beginner," said Tony drily.

"I haven't ... I haven't killed him, have I?"

"No, look he's coming round. He's a tough nut to crack."

"I'm sorry, Tony. How can I say sorry to  _him_?"

"He doesn't believe in apologies, John, so don't waste your breath."

"But he'll be furious!"

"Don't worry. I'll just remind him that a friend of his knocked me out once – with less provocation, I might say. It'll be fine," said Tony. "Hey, take it easy," he said to Gibbs who was coming to and trying to sit up, "slowly, slowly, you'll be OK."

Gibbs shook his head and then obviously regretted it, he grasped one of the arms Tony was using to support him,

"What happened? Did Yalland find us?"

"No," said Tony, "someone was a bit overenthusiastic. Mistook you for Yalland."

"What? Who?"

"Me," said John.

"Why?" said Gibbs, "I don't look anything like Yalland."

"Not important," said Tony easily, "just be grateful that John's an artist and not a sculptor. Think of the muscle he'd have built up chipping away at marble and stuff."

"You're an artist?" asked Gibbs of John. John nodded. Gibbs huffed bitterly, "Thought artists were meant to be observant." He rubbed his head gently and then went over what had just been said, "So you know about Yalland?"

Tony nodded. Gibbs exploded, "so you've known all this time and stayed put while we've been racing around trying to find you before Yalland could put a bullet in that stupid head of yours."

"Hey!" said Tony, "I just found out two minutes ago so don't get on your high horse with me!"

"I read about it in the newspaper," supplied John, "when I went to the dentist today."

"It was in the papers days ago," said Gibbs, "don't you people read the papers?"

"I was on vacation, Mr 'I'm always interested in the news' – not."

"Well, you shouldn't have been," said Gibbs crossly, "if you'd listened to reason ..."

"You mean 'listen to you'," shouted Tony.

Gibbs winced a bit at the raised voice but looked as if he was going to argue back. John intervened,

"Look, I'm sure you two have got a lot to ... er, talk about but I think it would be better to continue this somewhere not quite so out in the open."

"Yeah," said Tony, "you're right. Let's get Gibbs off his butt and to a doctor. Up you come, Boss."

Gibbs swayed a bit as he was brought to his feet but the dizziness soon passed and he was able to walk under his own steam. They got into Gibbs' car and Tony drove them back to John's house. John went down to the hut to check on Doug but he was still out cold, sleeping off the whisky. Tony looked on John's list of numbers but the doctor didn't pick up when he called.

"The doctor's not answering," he said as John came back in.

"It's Thursday," said John.

"So?"

"He takes a half day on Thursdays. Usually goes fishing."

"Do you have a cell number for him?"

John laughed. "‘Fraid not, Doc Murray's old fashioned."

A couple of weeks before, Tony would have been frustrated at this example of small town living. Now, he accepted it as an endearing quirk, "What you do if you need him?"

"Everyone knows where he goes fishing. They just go fetch him."

"Where does he go fishing?"

"Summer Point. Just past Millie's. We went past it when we went out fishing," answered John.

"You went fishing, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs.

"So?"

"Getting real back to nature, aren't you? Bird watching, fishing? What else you been up to while we've been working ourselves into the ground?"

Tony ignored him, "OK, I'll go find the doc. You two stay here."

Gibbs tried to stop him, "Yalland might know you're here. We found you from that picture on the web thing. He could have done the same."

"I'll be careful," said Tony.

Gibbs tried to get up and hold him back but the dizziness returned when he moved quickly and he had to drop back on to the couch.

"Stubborn idiot," he groaned.

"They say it takes one to know one," said John.

Tony paused at the door and shouted back, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Give him some coffee!"

As Tony drove towards Summer Point he thought about the Jamie Yalland case. He remember a cold blooded, brutal young man who had taken pleasure in causing pain and misery. There were cases Tony was ambivalent about but he had never had the slightest doubt that Yalland belonged behind bars for as long as possible. He found the doctor where John had predicted and, from the weary resignation with which he packed up his gear, Tony figured that he didn't often get an uninterrupted fishing session.

"I'll drive you down," offered Tony.

"No need. I've got my car here, you'd only have to drive me back here. At Sutherland's you said?"

"That's right, Sir. Um, someone got knocked on the head."

"That was a mite careless, wasn't it?"

"Just an accident," said Tony evasively.

"All right, all right, I'll see what I can do. Say, Son, would you do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"I told Millie I'd let her have any fish I caught. Could you bring them to her? Don't want them to spoil."

"No problem," said Tony, taking the proffered pail a little gingerly.

Tony put the pail of fish on the back seat of the beige sedan and started out for Millie's. For almost the first time, he was glad he hadn't brought his 'real' car with him, he wouldn't have wanted to risk contaminating his sleek beauty with the smell of fish. He drove slowly, trying not to spill anything.

Millie's café was in a slight dip so Tony was able to see it from a few hundred yards out. As he paused at the top of slope he noticed a different car in the car park. He drove down carefully and parked next to it. He got out and retrieved the pail, casting a casual eye over the other car. He didn't expect to recognise every car but this one was unusually clean, most of the cars in Milsom Bay tended to get covered with a salty sandy residue but this one had only a slight coating. He could see a cell phone on the front seat but otherwise the car was empty.

He took the pail inside,

"Hey, Millie, who does that car outside belong to?"

"I don't know. Youngish man came in for a coffee to take out. Said he was going for a walk along the beach."

"What did he look like?"

"Brown hair – darker than yours. Bit shorter than you, medium build. Sorry, there wasn't really anything that stood out."

"How long ago was he here?"

"About an hour or so, perhaps less."

"Thanks, Millie. Hey, Doc Murray sent these fish."

"Tony, is everything OK? Your Boss was here earlier looking for you. He said there might be someone after you."

"Best to be safe, that's all. Millie, after I've gone, shut the café for the day, will you. Call through to the police in Belbrough. Tell them that a criminal called Jamie Yalland might be here. They'll know what to do."

"Yes, of course," said Millie a little nervously, "what are you going to do?"

"I just need to check something and then I'll head back to John's," Tony thought for a moment, trying to remember which newspaper John had brought back with him, "Hey, do you have a copy of the  _Belbrough Bugle_?"

"Yes, I think so. Oh ... there was that story about an escaped criminal in it. Is that who you think might be coming after you?"

Tony nodded and Millie hurried off to find the paper.

"Thanks, Millie," said Tony, "now remember, lock up and call the cops."

As he left the café, Tony found the article and read about what had happened in Washington. He took his burn phone out and tapped in McGee's number.

"Special Agent Timothy McGee."

"McGoo," said Tony.

"Tony!" came Tim's excited voice, "where have you been? Are you all right?"

"Later, McGee," said Tony briskly, "run a licence plate for me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Quick ..." Tony read out the number of the clean car. A few moments elapsed,

"It was reported stolen earlier today from Gaithersburg. Tony, what's this about?"

"Looks like Jamie Yalland might be here. Get a team down here, McGee. Call Gibbs, he'll tell you where to come." He snapped the phone shut and started the car. It went forward a few feet when a thought occurred to Tony, he stopped the car and considered what to do.

NCISNCIS

Half an hour later, Tony returned to John's and knocked on the door. John came to the door and was about to question why Tony had knocked instead of going straight in.

"Don't say anything, John" he said in a low voice, then he said louder, "Millie asked me to go to Belbrough for her. She's got a load of fish to cook and she needs some special herb she's run out of."

John looked puzzled but played along,

"OK. Shall I come too?"

"No, I'll call you when the food's ready." He peered past John where he could see the Doctor applying a bandage to Gibbs' head. He said in a lower voice, "Tell Gibbs, it's like the Frog. Tell him not to let anyone get too close."

"See you," he said and waved farewell.

Tony drove back to Millie's and parked at the top of the incline. He waited until he saw someone run along the beach and get into the clean car. Tony then drove past Millie's and, to his satisfaction, saw the other car leave the car park and follow him. Tony went along the road to Belbrough for about five minutes. The road was narrow and had frequent pulling in points so that drivers could let other cars pass. Tony stopped in one of these and the other car stopped in one further down the road.

Tony got out of the car and stretched casually and saw that the occupant of the other car had also got out. Tony took a deep breath, jumped back into the car, turned it round and raced back down the road to block the other car in.

Jamie Yalland yanked at the car door as if to get in and drive away but then realised he couldn't get the car out. A look of panic went across his face.

"Why, Jamie," said Tony pleasantly, "it's nice to see you again. Not."

Yalland drew a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Tony,

"Let me go," he said, "and I'll leave you alone."

"Tut, tut," said Tony, "didn't your Mom ever tell you it's not nice to lie? After all, you've already been naughty enough to eavesdrop at my friend's house and hear I was going to Belbrough."

"Back off," said Yalland, waving the gun.

"But if you shoot me, Jamie," said Tony reasonably, "do you think you'll be able to get my car of the way before it goes boom and blows you up?"

Yalland went white and swallowed convulsively.

Tony continued in a conversational tone of voice, "You see I read all about the  _nasty_  things you did in Washington and it made me wonder if perhaps you got more than one bomb from your bomb maker friend. So when I heard an unusual rattle in my car, I got a bit suspicious."

"Look," said Jamie, getting a bit more panicky, "why don't you drive back up the road, let me go and I'll give you half a million dollars."

Tony pretended to consider this, "But Jamie, Jamie, how can I trust that you won't make me go kaboom as soon as I get in the car?"

"I'll give you the detonator," said Jamie desperately.

"A million," said Tony coolly, "and I go with you to collect it."

"OK, OK, anything," said Jamie, "here, here's the detonator," and he threw a cell phone to Tony. Tony caught it and said, "OK, I'll drive back up there a little." Jamie sagged with relief. Tony opened the door of the car and paused, "Oh, by the way, when I found the nasty bomb in my car, I phoned a friend of mine in Washington. A very clever friend."

"So?"

"So she talked me through taking the bomb off my car and putting it in yours."

"What?"

"And looking at this cell, it looks as if you've just shortened the time to detonation. Ooh, thirty seconds to go before your car blows up."

"No!" wailed Jamie.

"What?" said Tony coldly, "you've got thirty seconds to get away. That's more warning than you gave those kids in Washington. Well, I'm going to get into my car and drive away. I think you're about to have a tragic accident, it looked a very _big_  bomb when I moved it. Bye." He got into the car and drove away. He looked back and saw Jamie shudder with indecision and then make a run for it back down the road: where the Belbrough police were waiting under the supervision of Gibbs.

"We've got to get away! Move!" shouted Yalland hysterically, "the car's about to blow up!"

Gibbs cupped a hand to his ear, "What?"

"Move! Move!" screamed Yalland again as he tried to push past the police.

"DiNozzo," said Gibbs, as Tony strolled up, having abandoned his car, "Mr Yalland thinks there's going to be an explosion. Do you know anything about that?"

"I think there's been a misunderstanding, Boss. It would have been far too dangerous to let anyone drive round with a bomb in their car: not to mention  _criminal._ "

"What?" gasped Yalland, struggling in the grip of a burly sheriff.

"And as I'm not a criminal, I took the bomb off my car and left it in a safe place until EOD could get there."

The fight went out of Yalland and he allowed himself to be led away. Tony watched him go,

"I think that's called poetic justice, Boss, don't you?" he said with satisfaction.

Gibbs walked right up to him and stared into Tony's face,

"We need to talk."

 


	10. Chapter 10

Tony felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. Only Gibbs, he thought, could make the benign words 'we need to talk' sound like a bid for dominance. He studied Gibbs, looking into his eyes but deliberately not trying to match stare for stare. Gibbs didn't soften his glare but was disconcerted when Tony's gaze changed to one of compassion, almost pity.

"Later, Gibbs," said Tony, "later," and he patted Gibbs on the upper arm before walking away. Gibbs was rarely at a loss but at that moment he didn't know what to do. He stepped forward to follow Tony but someone laid a hand on his shoulder to restrain him; it was Dr Murray who had insisted on escorting Gibbs on the police action and who was revelling in all the excitement.

Gibbs tried his glare on the doctor but found that it was as ineffectual on this doctor as on Ducky.

"Special Agent Gibbs," said the doctor, "I'm heading back to Milsom. Why don't you come back with me?"

"No," said Gibbs firmly, "I'll go back with DiNozzo."

"Er ..." said Murray, and he pointed up the road where they could see Tony getting into the beige sedan. A minute later, Tony drove past them looking straight ahead.

Gibbs knew which battles to fight and, in any case, his head was still throbbing. He stalked off to the doctor's car. Dr Murray didn't seem at all disconcerted by Gibbs' silence in the journey back to John's house but helpfully pointed out local sights of interest.

"Thanks, Doc," said Gibbs when they reached John's. He marched into the house and was surprised when the doctor followed him,

"Phone call for you, Special Agent Gibbs," he said, holding out a cell.

"DiNozzo?" barked Gibbs, "where'd you go?"

"Ah, Jethro," came Ducky's placid voice, "my colleague Dr Murray tells me you met with a slight accident."

"Wouldn't call being hit over the head an accident," said Gibbs glaring at John who had come to see what had happened.

"Indeed, no," agreed Ducky, "most unfortunate, I'm sure."

"What you want, Ducky?"

"I assume that the situation with Yalland has been resolved satisfactorily?"

"Yeah. DiNozzo style."

"I am glad to hear it. I look forward to learning what transpired in the minutest detail."

"I just need to catch up with DiNozzo and then I'll be heading back. Fill you in then."

Ducky coughed, the polite cough he tended to employ when he was about to put a spoke in Gibbs' wheel, "I'm afraid that will be impossible, Jethro."

"What you mean?" demanded Gibbs.

"Dr Murray has reported that you suffered a severe blow to the head. Anthony told him that you were unconscious for several minutes. You are most likely suffering from a concussion. It would be most unwise for you to drive for some hours to come."

"Ducky!"

"Dr Murray further reported that he has other concerns about your physical well-being and I must say that, having observed you over recent days, I am in agreement with him."

"Ducky!"

"Jethro, you are run down, sleep deprived and exhausted."

"Ducky," Gibbs tried for a more reasonable tone, "I promise I'll rest when I get back to DC."

Ducky stifled a laugh, "I have spoken to Director Vance and have advised him that you should take a period of medical leave while you recover."

"A what?"

"Just a short leave, Jethro. It is already nearly the weekend, just take tomorrow and the weekend and you will be wonderfully refreshed and ready to resume your duties."

"Fine," said Gibbs crossly, "I'll call McGee and get him to drive down and pick me up."

Ducky coughed that cough again, "I'm afraid that will not be possible. Timothy is fully engaged in writing reports about the incident at the safe house and will not be available for some time. I would suggest that you find somewhere suitable to stay in Milsom Bay. It sounds a charming place. Goodbye."

Ducky hung up. Gibbs stared at the cell in disbelief; he couldn't remember the last time Ducky had been the one to end a conversation. Dr Murray took the cell back,

"Tony suggested I call Dr Mallard to let him know the situation; he didn't think you should drive back to DC today."

"You're most welcome to stay here, Agent Gibbs," said John, "it's the least I can do."

"Splendid," said the doctor, "I'll leave some instructions about looking out for possible problems. John, you'll have to do concussion checks through the night. Call me if you have any concerns. Oh, and can you give Tony this cell back?"

John winced at the thought of having to wake an irritable Gibbs up during the night but nodded agreement. Dr Murray had one last parting shot,

"I'll prescribe a tonic for you, Agent Gibbs, I think you need building up a bit."

Gibbs snorted in disgust, leaving the doctor in no doubt as to the fate of any tonic he prescribed.

NCISNCIS

John offered Gibbs his bed but Gibbs insisted that he would be all right on the couch and, as he was weary with the emotion of the day, John let him. Doug was still in the hut and Tony had gone to stay with Millie for the night.

When John came to wake Gibbs up for the second of the concussion checks, he found that Gibbs was already awake and was looking at the unfinished portrait of Tony.

"Surprised you managed to get him to sit still long enough," he said, nodding at the painting.

"It's just as well that paintings don't depend on the subject not moving," admitted John, "he does fidget a lot. Do you need me to ask you what the date is and who the president is?"

"No, I'm good," said Gibbs.

"If you don't mind me saying so, Agent Gibbs, I don't think you are," said John tentatively.

"I do mind," said Gibbs gruffly.

"OK," said John, "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"How's he been?" asked Gibbs to John's retreating figure.

"Tony?"

"Hmmm."

"I don't want to break any confidences ... but I guess it's not a secret to say that he's pretty pissed at you."

"I know," said Gibbs, running his hands through his hair, "I tried to talk to him but he brushed me off."

John had heard Tony's version of the last conversation with Gibbs and thought 'brush off' was probably an understatement but he didn't try to correct Gibbs.

"He's been pissed at me before," admitted Gibbs, "but he's always come round. It would have been all right if he hadn't hightailed it down here."

"I think he needed the space," offered John, "and he found some of that here."

"I thought he knew that I'd always have his six," said Gibbs.

"He does know that," said John, "or rather, he used to know that."

"I would  _die_  for my team," said Gibbs earnestly, "and especially for Tony. He should know that, nothing's changed."

"Gibbs," said John hesitantly, "forgive me but I'm not sure that means much to Tony."

"What you mean?"

"From the stories Tony has told me, you hold your life quite cheap."

"You saying I have a death wish?" asked Gibbs.

"No, not exactly that, but I get the impression you wouldn't cling to life and that you don't value your life more highly than that of others."

"I think my life is more important than  _some_  people's," argued Gibbs, "and it doesn't change the fact that I would give it up for Tony."

"But you wouldn't  _live_  your life for Tony."

"I don't understand. What you mean?"

"Gibbs, you wouldn't do things differently even if you saw that you were hurting someone. You decide what you want to do and you do it regardless of the consequences. That's what I mean when I say you won't  _live_  your life for others; things have to be  _your_  way and screw anyone who gets in the way, even if you care for that person."

"I do care about Tony," said Gibbs.

"I know you do, Agent Gibbs, but sometimes you have to be able to show it in a less dramatic way than dying for him. There are other ways of showing that you care, you know."

"Ducky once accused me of not knowing that tough love isn't the only sort," admitted Gibbs.

"I think I'd like to meet this Ducky," said John, "he sounds a wise person."

"You'll need to set aside a few hours," said Gibbs with an unexpected touch of humour, "if talking was an Olympic sport he'd be a champion."

"Go back to sleep, Gibbs," said John, "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Thanks, Sutherland," said Gibbs, and John thought it was probably for more than concussion checks.

NCISNCIS

John took Gibbs to Millie's for breakfast the next day. As Gibbs ate Millie's food he began to understand why Tony had stayed so long, the woman was a miracle; he couldn't remember the last time bacon and eggs had tasted so good. John saw that Gibbs was looking for Tony and took pity on him,

"Is Tony up yet, Millie?"

"Up at the crack of dawn, went for a run and then came back for breakfast. He's gone off for a walk now."

"Which way did he go?" asked John.

"Up towards Leeley's Stretch, I think," said Millie, "that's up that way, Agent Gibbs."

"It's all right, Mrs Lacey," said Gibbs rubbing his head, "I remember where it is."

John finished his breakfast and rose to go,

"I better go and check on Doug. I think he'll be off later today. I'll see you later, Agent Gibbs. Come back when you want to, I don't lock my door."

Gibbs finished the last of Millie's superb coffee and then decided to walk off in search of Tony. It took him about forty minutes to get to Leeley's Stretch and he found Tony sitting in the same place as the previous day.

"Bird watching?" asked Gibbs, as he dropped down beside Tony.

"Yeah, don't ask me what I've seen though. Forgot to bring my book."

"It's a nice spot," said Gibbs, feeling his way.

"Yeah. It'd be tough to leave."

Gibbs swallowed in sudden anxiety, wondering if Tony might be thinking of staying.

"You've got a job waiting for you, DiNozzo."

Tony turned and looked at Gibbs, a doubt in his eyes.

"John had a proposition for me yesterday," he said.

"Oh?" said Gibbs.

"Offered to sell me the hut."

"To live in?"

"That's what people usually do," said Tony drily.

"Hell of a commute," said Gibbs.

"He said that we could work out proper access so the hut had its own path leading to it. Figures the place will belong to Doug one day: he and I haven't hit off that well so it would be best not to rely on his good will."

"Uh," said Gibbs.

"There's a bit of land next to the hut. I could buy that too and then extend the hut a bit. I mean it's nice, not as basic as your cabin, but it could do with another room."

"What would you do with it?"

"It would be a bolt hole, somewhere to escape to when my Boss gets too demanding."

Gibbs breathed a small sigh of relief,

"So long as you let me know where you are," he said.

Tony huffed in disapproval, "so it's OK for you to go off-grid but you have to know where I am all the time?"

Gibbs backed off, "why's Sutherland going to sell you the hut?" he asked.

"He wants to give Doug some money, this will raise some. And he reckons I'd be a good neighbour to have."

"From what I saw of Doug's car this morning, I wouldn't have thought he needed any money," said Gibbs.

"John thinks he has fences to mend with Doug," said Tony, "this is one way to do it."

"He can't buy his way out of trouble," said Gibbs.

"He knows that," said Tony patiently, "but he thinks that giving up something that matters to him might show Doug that he cares."

"What's he got to make up about?"

"He thinks he let Doug down a long time ago: you'd have to ask him for details."

"And do you think he let Doug down?"

"Yes, I do," said Tony.

"Like you think I let you down?"

"Yes," said Tony.

"I phoned the prison that night," said Gibbs, "to make sure you were all right."

"Gibbs ..."

"I didn't expect Carew to send you to jail," said Gibbs, "that was out of the blue."

"Would it have made any difference if you had expected him to do that?"

Gibbs hesitated and Tony laughed bitterly, "No, it wouldn't have made any difference, would it? Gibbs, I don't expect you to mollycoddle me but is it too much to ask for you to keep me in the loop?" Again Gibbs hesitated and Tony continued, "And there's the rub, isn't it? You won't change the way you are."

"John said something similar last night," confessed Gibbs.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And do you think he's right?"

"I think there are times I have to make command decisions and sometimes they have to be made quickly. There's not always time for consultation or discussion."

"I know that," said Tony softly, "but you defying the judge wasn't one of those times, was it? You could have gone down and argued with him in person but somehow that would have gone against your bastard marine persona."

"I've spent years perfecting it," said Gibbs wryly.

"Oh, believe me, I know," said Tony, "look, Boss, I'm not asking for you to become all touchy-feely. Hell, I'm not sure what I want. I guess I want you to be ..."

"What?"

"A bit less Gibbs-ian, I suppose."

"I can try," said Gibbs.

"You need to, Boss, because I don't want to get caught up in your machinery again."

"If it's any comfort," said Gibbs, "McIntosh Carew tortured me for days afterwards!"

Tony laughed, a more familiar Tony laugh this time.

"So am I forgiven?" asked Gibbs.

"You haven't exactly apologised," pointed out Tony, "but I guess it's too early to expect that much of a change from you. And no, you're not forgiven."

"Tony?"

"I had an interesting talk with Doug just before you turned up," said Tony.

"Yeah?" asked Gibbs, a bit puzzled at this apparent change of subject.

"Yes. He was ranting about how awful his Dad had been to him."

"So?"

"And I found myself telling him that he had to let go of that anger and resentment otherwise he'd carry on living in a world of pain."

"And?"

"And I'm not sure who I was trying to convince; him or me. But I believe that I was telling him the truth. I guess that'd make me a hypocrite if I tell him to do one thing but don't try to follow my own advice."

"And you're not a hypocrite?"

"Hope not, Boss. And there's another reason I'll try to forgive you."

"What's that?"

"I wasn't sure you cared, wondered if me thinking the head slaps are a sign of affection was just the result of brain damage."

"I do care, Tony, you know that."

"Yeah, I do."

"What changed your mind?"

"Boss, have you looked in a mirror lately? You look a mess and you implied that it was because I'd gone MIA. Well, I may be wrong, but I don't think you'd look like that if you didn't care."

"You're not wrong, Tony," and Gibbs reached up to ruffle his hair.

Tony turned and smiled at him, a real DiNozzo smile, "Hey," he said, "Millie serves coffee and homemade Danish at 11.00. Not to be missed."

He jumped up and walked away.

"Sorry, Tony," said Gibbs quietly. Tony didn't hear, but at least it was a start.

 


End file.
